


End of The Night

by Spero30



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst, Canon Universe, Confessions, Drama, Falling In Love, Feelings, Feels, First Kiss, First Love, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Hurt, I'm Sorry, Love, M/M, Nice Meeting You!, Original Character(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Plot, Relationship(s), Romance, Russia, Sad, Sexual Content, Slow Build, Smut, Tags May Change, Yakov is a crazy famous coach of course, and Yuuri is truly uninterested in Victor, not a Nikiforov’s fan this time, who is Nikiforov anyway?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-29
Updated: 2017-12-02
Packaged: 2019-01-26 09:17:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 21,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12554196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spero30/pseuds/Spero30
Summary: Yuuri is aiming at the top.Skating's always been his biggest love. The way blades sounded, cutting through the ice, the feeling of cold, sharp air entering his lungs.It was addicting, thrilling, electrifying and he couldn't imagine loving anything more than skating.After settling down in St. Petersburg, Yuuri is getting ready to compete at the national level, ready to win. He has his favorite rink mates, a demanding coach and a group of trustworthy friends at school. He truly couldn't be in a better place.So why is the sudden appearing of famous Russian skating-star Victor Nikiforov slowly changing his flawless, everyday life?  And how Victor is managing to influence his being more and more, without Yuuri noticing, disturbing all of his priorities?





	1. If I met you again, the first time roundy

 

 

> _If I met you again, the first time roundy_

 

 

He was in the third place.

Standing on the lowest step of the podium, he felt bitter disappointment running through his veins. He hated it. This feeling of  _not enough_. Not good enough, not strong enough, not talented enough.

Simply not enough to win, yet again.

Many could say that the third was excellent, that he should be proud of himself. He was done hearing praise he felt he didn’t deserve.  The third was not good enough for him, he wanted to win, to stand on the highest step of the podium.

Third or second will never satisfy his need.

There were people who would say that he didn’t like to compete, that he was too shy, too bashful, too withdrawn to have the desire to win. They all seem to believe he will be happy with just skating. But Yuuri knew he could be better, maybe even the best. Sure, he was young, everything before him, but he wanted it – competing, growing, achieving the top, standing on the highest step. He wanted to meet the expectations, exceed them, surprise everyone, himself included. The simple desire he would fight nails and teeth to fulfill.

‘Smile for the photo!’ cheerful voice of the local newspaper photographer stopped his train of thoughts and brought him back to the reality.

He felt the tight muscles of his face relax into something resembling a smile. A few clicks later he was allowed to leave the podium and head back to his coach’s side.

Yakov had his own type of smile on the face - he simply looked less unhappy and grumpy that usually.

‘Not bad Yuuri, but you know we still have to work on these jumps. You’re too sloppy and distracted’ he cleared his throat. ‘Let’s head home for now, we will try tomorrow. And no running to the ice when we get back, you have to have some rest from time to time!’

Yuuri just smiled, nodding his head. If Yakov says  _no_ , he will have to be obligated. Usually, he would stick to simple ‘you should', rarely actually forbidding him something. But ‘no' was a ‘no' without a place to discuss.

‘Hey, Yuuri, heading out? Congratulations, you were great!’ one of his fellow competitors, Feliks, grabbed his arm. ‘Guess I will see you in Moscow?’

‘Sure' Yuuri smiled. The tournament in Moscow had been yet another chance to prove himself.

‘Hey, by the way! Have you heard about Victor? He just won silver in Harbin! It’s almost sure he will go to Finale! Is it amazing? He is like, four or five years older than us. Gosh, I wish I could skate like him one day, right, Yuuri?’

He looked at Feliks with wrinkled eyebrows, not exactly knowing what to say. Sure, he heard about Victor. Every kid that had anything to do with figure skating in Russia probably heard about him. But did Yuuri look up to him? Of course, he was skating competitively, but, although he wasn’t very proud of that, he had small knowledge about older skaters. Yuuri wasn’t sure if he even ever saw Victor’s performance, let alone looked up to him.

‘Sorry Feliks’ he murmured, ‘ I’m not really in this whole Victor-fever.’

‘Yuuri? Really? That’s a shame! You should totally catch up! Maybe next year he will compete in the Cup of Russia! Then we could go and watch him, that just would be great! You have to see him skate, Yuuri, you’ll love him.’

Yuuri just smiled, not knowing how to respond. He knew he won’t probably check Victor’s work and won’t be interested in the Cup of Russia or any other competition. And at the same time, he didn't want to waste time discussing this with Feliks. He looked at the Yakov, nodding his head.

‘Yuuri, your phone has been vibrating in my pocket all the time for the last couple of minutes’ Yakov hand him the old Toshiba – the phone defiantly has its best days behind him, the silver flip flop was unsettled and the black keys in the inside were scrawled on the most commonly used buttons. Still, Yuuri felt sentiment for the used device.

There were four unread text messages.

 

_Mari_

_Congrats, baby brother!_

_Mum_

_yuuri congratulation you did well_

_Katya_

_Yuuuuuuri!! Bravooo! You’re great!!_

_Akim_

_Congrats, Yuuri! It was perfect, you gonna win in Moscow for sure!_

 

‘Your family?’ Yakov looked over his shoulder.

‘Yes, and friends. Apparently, the results are already online’ Yuuri smiled shyly. ‘They all seem happy with the third place.’

Yakov cleared his throat, refraining from any comment. He could probably guess Yuuri’s thoughts about his place on the podium.

‘We should get going. See you around, Feliks!’ Yuuri smiled and waved his hand, turning around and tugging Yakov with him.

All the nice words, Victor or not Victor, Yuuri still has been just third in the competition. And third still wasn’t good enough.

* * *

 

 

_kommersynt.ru | Sport_

**VICTOR NIKIFOROV IS COMING BACK HOME**

Earlier this year, ice-skating coach Nadezhda Drugova announced her change of the home rink from Sokolnik Arena in Moscow to Lake Placid, NY due to the turbulence between some of the skaters in her team (read more: Love Triangle on Ice). With her decision, came silence from most of the group, leaving fans with a pile of questions about their future and uncertainty if the biggest Russian ice-skating talents will stay in the country or leave with their brilliant coach.

After months of waiting, in the middle of the season, Victor Nikiforov, one of the most promising rising star of Russian ice-skating, finally announced his decision: come back to his home rink in Saint Petersburg. Nikiforov explained that he will once again train under Yakov Feltsman (pair worked together at the very beginning of Nikiforov's career), joining Feltsman’s team in the Yubileyny Sports Palace shortly after Cup of China in November. Drugova added that they’ve been in online and phone contact with Feltsman during last months, trying to make everything the easiest way possible for Nikiforov’s change, especially during such nervous period that is the middle of the season.

Neither Nikiforov or Drugova explained the reason for the change in the most exhausting time for skaters, simply stating  _it’s in everyone’s best interest_. The contract between Nikiforov and Feltsman is signed until the end of the next season.

 

**The newspaper "Kommersynt", p. 10**

**PRINT SEND PRINT DISCUSS**

* * *

 

 

The Yubileyny Sports Palace in Saint Petersburg was silent. Ice was smooth and with morning sun reflecting playfully, it seemed like it’s almost asking him to stand and start skating.

Yuuri always was first at the rink. Sitting in quiet, waiting for his two rink mates and Yakov. It was almost their tradition – small greetings, tying laces together and then, when Yakov was done hearing them talk and laugh together, entering the ice.

This little routine always made Yuuri feel at home. New people usually made him feel uncertain, threatening even. The situations he couldn’t predict, personalities he wasn’t familiar with, disturbing his small world. The Japanese wasn’t easy-going, he was finding peace in his little-introverted world and opening-up took time, usually slow process in his case.

The group, which he knew, in which he had his well-known place, was comfortable. Sure, it took him some time, but he was finally able to become friends with his rink mates, let them get to know him and familiarize them in return.

It was perfect now, homelike feeling while entering the stadium. The feeling of belonging born from time and understanding.

Mila has been five years younger than him, but they managed to have good contact. She starts skating under Yakov the previous year, but her warm and frankness made her easy to talk to.

Georgi was the only one of three skaters that Yuuri met when he first join Yakov’s team – the other two quit. He was four years older, preparing to join the Senior Division next year. Despite their differences, Yuuri actually enjoyed Georgi’s presence, he got used to him.

Mila entered rink just after Georgi, running to Yuuri and jumping on him.

‘Have you met him? What did Yakov tell you? Why didn’t you say anything earlier, Yuuri! Not nice!’ Mila pounded.

Yuuri looked at her terrified. He didn’t have any idea what was going on. His calm, usual tradition of small talk with sleepy Mila (she really wasn’t a morning person) and slow preparing for skating, was roughly stopped. Yuuri was confused.

‘What are you talking about? Yakov didn’t tell me anything’

‘What? Really? You live with him and he didn’t mention a word? What a grump! You will never guess, we wi…’

Mila stopped suddenly when they heard the sound of opening doors and two voices talking, loudly. One of them was certainly Yakov’s, with his typical irritation, easy to hear, but the other was new to Yuuri.

‘It’s him!!’ Mila shouted in Yuuri’s ear and stand up, looking curiously in the direction of the doors.

Yuuri didn’t know what was he expiating, but he would never think about seeing the man next to Yakov.

Victor Nikiforov was laughing, holding Yakov’s arm almost like they’re old friends. His now short, silver hair (when did he cut them? Last time he saw his skating, he still was wearing his ponytail!) were reflecting the sun beautified and his pale cheeks were a bit redden from the cold air outside. He was tall, with shining, light blue eyes which looked like clear ocean water on a sunny day.

Yuuri thought he looked out of place, all familiar with Yakov.

Yakov looked already tired and more annoyed than ever. He was listening to Victor’s blabbering, probably not even concentrating on it.

They both stopped and silent in front of the small group. Mila looked positively excited like he just could wait to jump on Victor and hug him, strongly (the girl was unbelievably powerful for her small figure). Georgi didn't seem so moved, Yuuri thought he probably already met Victor at some competitions before since they're the same age.

Yakov cleared his throat.

‘I’m sure you’ve all heard about Victor. Although it’s the middle of the season, we were preparing for it and he will be joining us starting today. So, don’t get overexcited, he is your new rink mate.’

Victor looked  _happy_. With puppy-like face, bright eyes and wide smile, he was a pure picture of the happiest man on Earth, as if he was watching the most beautiful view in the world. He looked at them and waved. Yuuri never saw anything so confusing.

But it seemed he was alone in his opinion. As soon as Victor smiled, Georgi smiled back, looking rather pleased with the whole situation. At the same time, almost like the smile was some kind of a secret sign, Mila shrieked with happiness and rushed, jumping on Victor and laughing maniacally.

‘Vitya! You really are Vitya! I could believe when Georgie told me! I’m Mila, by the way! Nice to meet you!’

Victor was laughing, hugging her back. Yuuri couldn’t believe it was possible, but he looked even  _happier_ , holding small, shaking ball of energy which was Mila.

He looked at Yakov, searching for some kind of explanation or encouragement, but he received neither. The coach was even looking at him, standing with a disgruntled face, probably already imagining the course of their practices when both Victor and Mila will be on the ice.

All of a sudden, Yuuri felt out of place. With Victor and Mila laughing together, bidding on who will faster on the ice, Yakov already scolding them and trying to control the chaos that was about to be born and Georgi laughing under the nose, Yuuri simply didn't know what to do. How was he about to approach Victor? The man seemed nice and lighthearted, smiling friendly at everyone, but Yuuri just couldn't understand the turn of events. What was Victor doing with them in the middle of the season? Why didn't Yakov say anything earlier? Was Victor to stay for longer or will he be gone in a couple of months?

Yuuri shirked inside. Even if the man didn't say anything, he already knew how Victor sees him: as an outsider, someone who wasn't from here. Yuuri couldn't blame him. He was just a shy, awkward Japanese boy, with thick glasses and a strange accent. An unfamiliar person, a foreigner that didn’t belong.

Yuuri turned his head, clenching teeth. He couldn’t stand these feelings, the thoughts suddenly running through his head. Unpleasant concerns, the urging want to go back home.

Although Victor was new, he managed to warm up to the small group in a matter of seconds (being Russian ice-skating star, highly talented person and worldwide known athlete probably helped), a feature Yuuri will never have, making the Japanese insecure, wanting to escape rather than trying to talk to his new rink mate.

Not knowing what better to do with himself, Yuuri stood up silently, his skates already on, and entered the ice. When his mind was too full of unnecessary thoughts, skating always helped, making him more relaxed, allowing him to see the problem from a different perspective.

Victor Nikiforov becoming his new rink mate definitely was some kind of problem in Yuuri’s brain, the trouble he couldn’t fully understand or approach in any way. Forgetting himself on the ice never felt more appealing.

Sparkling, blue eyes followed his moves silently with sad glare, full of curiosity, questions, and heedfulness. 

* * *

 

 

The bell rang loudly, making Yuuri signed with relief. He quickly put all his notebooks into his backpack. He lowered his head, saying ‘Goodbye’ to his teacher, going out of class and heading towards the main entrance of the school.

He joined  _Gimnaziya 610_  two years ago, just two months after his arrival to Russia. At first, it was almost impossible hard. People were talking too fast, too sloppy, with a strange accent, not caring if he understands everything. Teachers weren't exactly nice or mean - they're just doing their job, although their writing on the board was making Yuuri's head hurt terribly. Not to mention, he was new - Japanese kid with bizarre skin color and clumsy Russian, strange accent, who entered school year after everyone else. Children in Russia start their education in junior high school at the age of 10, so 11-years-old Yuuri was new in the group of people knowing each other for at least a year.

Yakov wasn't exactly helping. He didn't know Japanese, any other language for them to communicate besides Russian, was English, which also wasn't Yuuri's best at the beginning. So first three months were a pure hell of fighting nails and teeth to understand at least something from his classes.  Some time at the beginning of December, he met Diana, always smiling girl from his class, and with her help: Katya, Kuzma, Maksim and Akim. Friends helped, it was easier having someone to talk to, someone who actually listened or repeated sentences when Yuuri needed it. They also helped him with his studies, especially Kuzma.

They've been hanging out together for last two years. Most of the day, Yuuri couldn't make much time, but every week Yakov was giving him a free afternoon (with slower practice in the evening), which Yuuri spent with his friends almost every time.

He never needed a calm, entertaining time after school like today. Victor joined their team just two days ago and Yuuri’s head hurts just thinking about it. Diana and Maksim were sick, some minor cold, keeping them at home for a couple of days, so it was only him, Katya and Akim today.

‘So, Yuuri, how is Victor? Is he really that great in real life?’ of course the blonde boy would bring it up after their phone call two days ago. Yuuri was so confused, pouring everything to him about the new member of his team.

Akim was Yuuri’s closest friend, someone he felt most comfortable with. Akim’s confident, a stoic attitude made him feel at ease and secure, perfect balance for his restless, disturbed thoughts. He was a football player, apparently not bad at all and he and Yuuri tried to watch each other competition as often as possible. They also usually called each other in the evenings, together lamenting about their coaches (although, Yuuri living with Yakov, had to be extra quiet in his complaining) and sour muscles. Akim was the person who was constantly making Yuuri’s life brighter, mostly just by being there.

‘What Victor? Nee, Yuuri, why don’t I know anything yet again?’

In Yuuri’s mind, Katya for sure could be Mila’s older sister. With her constant need to hug, bump shoulders and just ruff Yuuri’s hair, both of them seem all too similar in character. Honestly, most of the time he felt as Katya’s favorite teddy bear, but she claimed that she just adored his round, chubby cheeks. After two years, Yuuri was already too tired and just let her do as she pleased, refraining from any more protests.

They were walking down the street, with Katya’s arm already on Yuuri’s shoulders, blond hair reflecting last warm sunshine of autumn, to their favorite coffee place - Art Cafe Kommunalka. It was small, vintage-style place, just two minutes' walk from their school. They served the best green tea Yuuri was able to find in St. Petersburg and their cranberry pie was Yuuri's little secret about which Yakov could never find out.

‘Katya, Yuuri didn’t tell you?’ Akim’s small smile seemed almost too playful. Sometimes Katya was too naïve and too pure for her own good and Akim couldn’t bite his tongue, making poke fun at her. ‘A new person joined Yuri’s team and is now his rink mate. The most famous Russian figure skater, one and only, your favorite, Victor Nikiforov!’

Akim laughed warmly, seeing as girl’s eyes were getting bigger and bigger, round and shiny. Her face got a bit red from obvious excitement. Yuuri just shrugged his arms, looking at his feet.

‘What? Wow! Yuuri, seriously? This Victor Nikiforov? That’s amazing!’ Katya was shouting into his ear. ‘What is he like? Is he really so pretty in real life? Is he tall? Can I meet him? Maybe you could get me an autograph or something! Please, Yuuri!’

‘It's nothing big, I haven't really talked to him about anything. He's been with us for two days only.'

‘Yuuri doesn’t actually like him, Katya. Too bad for you’ he stuck his tongue to her, laughing at her pounding face.

‘Are for really, Yuuri? It’s  **THE Victor**! He is so famous and beautiful. I wish you could introduce me.’

Yuuri just shrugged his shoulders, again. He didn’t know what to say, wishing the whole conversation was just over.

They entered the café, with Katya still looking positively enchanted with just a mere thought of Victor. They took their usual place in the back of the shop, on the two couches near the red, brick wall. The waitress didn’t even have to ask them for their order, bringing them their favorites.

‘Katya, can we please change the subject? You've been talking about Victor for the past five minutes and I'm afraid I will go mad if you mention his name once more' Yuuri hid his head in his arms on the table. He felt an Akim's hand, who was sitting next to him, drawing small circles on his lower back in comfort act. The move was hidden from Katya's eyes thanks to the high table and a little place on the couch, which was making them sit close to each other.

Yuuri enjoyed it. His unwritten agreement with Akim, small touches out of pure concern and friendliness, lacking romantic subtext (and sometimes, Yuuri wished also sexual thrills at least on his end). The boy always knew just what to do to make him feel better, the last years of getting to know each other made them feel safe and confident in each other company. Akim was his best friend, warm, uncomplicated, simple presence in his life, helping him relax and feel more at home in Russia.

‘Fine. You’re no fun sometimes, you know that Yuuri? What do you want to talk about?’

‘Who about our trip at the beginning of January with Diana’s parents? Did yours agree, Katya?’ Yuuri felt eternally thankful to Akim for the quick change of subject.

He closed his eyes, feeling more relaxed than in last two days, with quiet, indie music in the back, Katya’s blabbering about the plans for their trip in a couple of weeks and Akim’s hand on his back.

Diana’s parents offered to take all of them to their house in the countryside for two days and one night trip to celebrate the New Year. Of course, Yuuri didn’t have any problem asking Yakov to let him go. He also called his parents in Hasetsu to ask for their permission just in case, but to be honest - what could they say, being over seven thousand kilometers from him?

At first, he planned to use the free days from school to go and visit Japan, but the prices of plane tickets had been just… enormous. With Yakov's payment, everyday life in St. Petersburg and Yuuri being too young to have a part-time job, he couldn't ask his parents for more money, simply because he missed them. No, he chose Russia years earlier and yes, maybe he couldn't fully understand his choice then, but he would have to live with the consequences, with one of the being continuous longing for his family. And he knew he would survive.

Akim and Katya were still discussing what to bring and how Diana's parents' house may look like (Katya depicted this strange image of a castle-like house with a tower and Yuuri felt that he can't truly understand her thinking most of the time) and with their voices being warm and familiar, warm-hearted laughing and inside jokes known only to their small group, Yuuri thought to himself that he truly loves his life in Russia.

Even with his strange, new rink mate, he couldn’t imagine having a better time anywhere in the world. 

* * *

 

 

Victor was there every time. He was present at every practice, laughing happily with Georgie or hugging and running around with Mila (much to Yakov dissatisfaction). He was this kind of nice, warm presence that brought smiles to everyone’s face (still, maybe not everyone, Yakov was as grumpy and annoyed as ever) and felt like a loving sunbeam.

Yuuri still didn’t talk to him. Sure, they introduce themselves, handshake exchanged, but that was as far as any Yuuri’s interaction with Victor went. Later, after Victor’s first practice, when he was at home in his room again, Yuuri understood the stupidity of his own behavior. Victor wasn’t a threat in any way. He really didn’t do anything wrong, all predictions and assumptions were born in Yuuri’s own mind, making him afraid and a bit paranoid. The Russian was probably too cheerful, friendly and simply nice to start thinking badly about Yuuri before exchanging even a sentence with him (and Yuuri still beat his head for the thought of ‘his strange accent’, which probably over the years became a less audible, and anyway – how Victor  was supposed to know it, without hearing him say a word in Russian!).

Unfortunately, the chance to get to know each other was also long gone in Yuuri’s small mind. He felt ashamed of his own behavior at the beginning to start talking to Victor all of a sudden, even if the Russian wouldn’t mind probably. The Japanese was rather disappointed with himself, still closed and bottled in his own presumptions after years of trying to change. So now he was trying to avoid talking to Victor at any cost (another foolish behavior he couldn’t correct, promising himself that  _today is the day_  every day for the last couple of weeks), only greeting him at the beginning.

It was his new routine, born through Viktor presence: talking with Georgi and Mila before practice and entering an ice alone as soon as Victor appeared, almost running from the man, doing some laps while waiting for Yakov. It wasn’t perfect, but he could live with it. He felt just fine, calm and at peace again.

He never noticed an intense stare filled with interest at his straight back, following him all the way from the bench to the ice.

Talented, bright Victor Nikiforov was now Yuuri’s new rink mate and he still didn’t know a slightest more than his name. 

* * *

 

 

Living with Yakov was easy. The older man had his flaws and small habits that were, from time to time, making Yuuri irritated, but most of the time we were absent, leaving the flat fully available to the boy. He seemed used to living with his students and Yuuri, with his agreeable attitude, was simple to cohabit. Yakov was keeping quite strict police hours: breakfast at 6:30 am with short practice following (the lessons at school didn't start before 9 am) and then Yuuri had to be in bed by 10:30 pm, so he had a whole, eight hours of sleep every day. Sometimes, he would allow the Japanese to come back later, usually on Fridays, moving the breakfast hour for later. Yuuri got used to routine quite easily. It was nice and simple, allowing his body to fully rest after even the toughest practices.

After two years, they looked like a father (or grandfather) living with his (grand)son for years, with understanding running through their veins.

‘Hi!’ Yuuri smiled goofily, waving at the computer screen.

It was around 4 pm on Thursday in Saint Petersburg (which meant 10 pm in Hasetsu) and Yuuri had about an hour before his practice. Yakov wasn't home, probably already at the rink. Thursdays were the days he skyped his family – trying to make as much time as possible to be able to talk to them while seeing them. They still called each other on the daily base or at least texted, but with a six-hour time difference, Yuuri's school and training, Katsuki running their hot spring resort, it was hard to sit in front of the computer every day and talk in peace. After first, hard months and some crying on both Yuuri's and is mother's ends, they managed to find a compromise with their every-week-Thursday's-talks. Most of the time Yuuri thought it wasn't enough, but still, – better that than nothing.

‘How are you doing?’ He smiled at Mari with her pale face. With winter break just around the corner, there were probably more customers, making the resort lively again.

‘Great! It’s getting crowded here. We even had a group of Europeans for three days, they left just yesterday.’

Yuuri looked carefully at the screen, following the line of his sister’s face.

Mari always was so much more expressive than him, with a lot of gestures and mimics. She was much more open and easy to talk to, smiling and being much friendlier than she tried to appear. She surely could seem harsh sometimes, but Yuuri never felt any bad vibe from her, just mildly provocations from older sister towards her younger brother. He knew she was his biggest supporter, a person who believed in him unconditionally. If she could, Yuuri never doubted she would try to save her baby brother from all the bad the world was trying to burden him with.

He listened to the story of foreign tourists delighted and excited about their hot spring, laughing about their attempt to soaked in them in their swimsuit and being a bit embarrassed when Toshiya explained to them how it works in Japan. Mari was making fun of their accent and Yuuri was fighting the lost battle, trying to defend them and explain to his sister that she shouldn't make fun of them (really, Mari sometimes was trying way too hard to pose as a mean person).

Hiroko cut into the conversation as fast as Mari started saying something about Yuuri having no sense of humor under her nose. Her face looked worried, trying to find out if Yakov was feeding him all right, if Yuuri hadn't caught a cold if the school was going alright... The Japanese was smiling, nodding his head, citing a few stories from the last days of school and training. Hiroko definitely looked worried, hearing about his additional training before the Moscow training and worrying that he looked thinner that last week.

His father sat beside her, holding a hand on her shoulders and squeezing it In reassurance. He was looking at Yuuri knowingly, both of them fully aware that they cannot do anything about her worrying. Every week talk about his health and wellbeing was Hiroko’s tradition and Yuuri never could get mad at her.

Leaving Japan and moving to Russia to live with the man neither of his parents ever met was probably hard for them, much rougher than Yuuri could imagine. He admired and respected them, two most understanding and supporting people in his life, putting his needs way before theirs.

Toshiya asked about Mila and the sweets he sent her last month – the man never met his young rink mate, but after hearing a couple of Yuuri’s stories about their fun on ice, he treated her almost like his second daughter, sending her candies and small gifts, which Yuuri had to smuggled under Yakov’s nose (the man was seriously strict when it came to his skaters' diets). Mila adored old man Katsuki, making Yuuri e-mail small performance she didn't especially for him some time ago. Since then, there were only more and more candies from Japan and now Mila was only talking about their trip together to his hometown.

‘Have you thought about, baby brother? Coming home sometime soon?’ Mari’s voice sounded longingly all of a sudden.

‘I don’t know Mari. I want to. But it’s so expensive and with Junior competitions starting next year, travels are going to be costly enough' he wanted nothing more than going home, even for a short time. Two years spent without actually seeing or touching his family was… though, to say at least. ‘Maybe you could come meet me? I hope I'll get some nominations to champions in Japan, it will be easier.'

‘Of course, sweetie. We will try!’

Toshiya yawned, trying to hide his mouth behind his palm.

‘You should go back to sleep, it’s late in Japan. And I have to leave for practice soon. I will call you tomorrow morning before school, ok?’ They nodded, smiling at the camera. ‘I love you!’

‘Love you too, baby brother!’ his heart ached looking at Mari’s warm smile and disconnecting the call.

He shut down his computer with a sad smile and some long breath, getting up and gathering necessary things for practice.

* * *

 

 

He came in the first place in Moscow at the beginning of December and the feeling of standing on the highest step of the podium was great.

His performance wasn’t perfect, with two missed jumps and some small flaws in the step sequence. He could do better, he knew it. Stress didn’t help, mild suffocating in the bathroom, hidden from everyone’s eyes. Yuuri did a good job, calming himself down and trying to control the reaction of his body. The attacks were happening, from time to time, but he didn’t want to say anything to Yakov, believing it was normal, just tension before public performance.

Yakov spent the whole time during the next practice pointing all his mistakes and making Yuuri do it all over again, perfect this time. His skating could be better, but it was still the closest to Junior level in his group.

Yakov was in constant contact with JSF, Federation monitoring his progress. Yuuri was probably the most promising young sportsman in Japan, there were high hopes surrounding his skating, especially with  Russian legendary coach - Yakov Feltsman - as his mentor. With him entering the Junior Division next season, he couldn't wait to hear about his nominations, places he'll go to and new people he'll skate against. Yuuri was a little worried about money - travelling and new costumes were expensive, but Yakov promised to help him, letting Yuuri pay his tuition later, after he’ll get some sponsors (his coach truly believed that the young skater will get them fast, within months, there were already some athletic companies mildly interested in him).

Yuuri felt good, motivated, with the season behind him and new challenges before him.

Mila still didn’t have a chance to skate in any serious competition, just some small, local ones around St. Petersburg. She wanted more, looking excited for next year, becoming Novice. She was definitely the best, with no other girl being even near her level. But, to be honest, Yuuri wasn’t expecting anything less after a tough year of training under Yakov at such young age. The girl clearly had a bright future ahead of her, being simultaneously hard-working, naturally gifted and surrounded by biggest names of figure skating in Russia. Yuuri was thrilled to watch her grow.

Georgi did well this season. He came third in the  _Skate Canada_  and sixth in the  _NHK Trophy_ , missing his chance to go to his Grand Prix Finale. Yakov wasn't pleased, especially with the result of Japan's competition, but Georgi was a highly emotional performer and Yuuri knew it could get into his way of skating.

Victor, after his two silver medals in the  _Skate Canada_  and the  _Cup of China_ , gained a bronze at the Finale just a week after Yuuri’s win. Stéphane Lambiel won his second gold medal, making the Swiss audience crazy with happiness and Yakov probably even more bald, especially when he watched Swiss skater doing perfect quadruple Salchow just after Victor missed his minutes earlier. Victor’s reprimand was the longest, but he was smiling the whole time, patting Yakov’s shoulder at the end. For a moment, Yuuri thought Yakov would burst, his face dark red. He started shouting so loud at Victor’s carefree behavior, that the rest of them could hear him at the other end of the rink.

With Victor preparing for Worlds in March and Georgi for Europeans in January, most of Yakov’s attention was focused on them, leaving Yuuri and Mila mostly in pace, giving them some time to relax and slowly prepare ideas for next season.

* * *

 

  

The door to his apartment squeaked in the almost familiar way. He rubbed his shoes at the worn wiper and crossed the threshold.

‘Hey, Makkachin!’ fluffy ball with brown fur attacked his leg with friendly barking, waving his tail.

Victor petted his head, with slow, long strokes, hiding his fingers in thick hair. He hung up his light jacket, taking off his shoes and walked into the living room. Putting his sports bag on the floor, he sat on the gray couch, breathing deeply.

Training was intensive, once again. Last weeks were hard, skating till late hours and learning new ways to communicate with him and Yakov. Victor remembered from his early years that the man was rough and easily annoyed, but years spent under Nadezhda soft eyes almost made him too carefree. Feltsman yelled more, leaving Victor’s head aching painfully at some evenings.

His new rink mates seemed much more friendly and open than the old team. There was less unhealthy pressure and completion between them, no aggressive ways to reach the top without the care about the cost. It was tiring for Victor in Moscow, not being able to talk freely during practices or camps, focusing solely on winning. When he found out about Nadezhda plans to leave Russia, he wasn't sure what to do. She was an excellent coach and Victor truly enjoyed working with her, but leaving abroad, permanently?  That probably wasn't for him, speaking in a foreign language on a daily basis and not being able to grab his coffee from the shop on the corner. They talked, honestly and openly and started searching for a coach in Russia willing to take him in. They connected Yakov amongst others, exchanging typical talk about boring stuff: future plans and training regiment, all too well known to him. Everything changed when he finally saw the video from Saint Petersburg’s team during their usual practice, all three of them doing their routines or practicing basic elements and… telling jokes or helping each other, like it was the most natural thing in the world. Victor was shocked, the view so unfamiliar and contrasting with the atmosphere in his Moscow’s rink. At that moment he made his decision, choosing Yakov over Nadezhda.

Mila, being small, positive ball of energy, already became his partner in most of their small crimes against Yakov (Victor was sure that two of them will make the man go bald way too early). He liked her from the beginning and already felt like her big, older brother that will probably scare away all future suitors. He also knew Georgi from years earlier, when both of them trained in Saint Petersburg and some of the competitions. The man was rather withdrawn and they've never talked much. And then, finally, there was this unfamiliar Japanese boy – Yuuri. Victor never heard about him before and Yakov ignored all his attempts to obtain any information. The boy gave the impression to… not like him at all. He truly couldn’t understand why: he didn’t do anything bad or mean towards the Japanese, only tried to be nice and friendly – which, bizarrely, seemed to scare Yuuri even more. Victor found himself in a bind and decided to hold back all of his attempts for the two of them to become friends and just let the situation to solve itself with time. He was intrigued, fascinated and, to be honest, a bit confused by Yuuri, but for now, he knew he would have to bottle up his curiosity.

Victor stood up, taking his sweaty shirt off and heading to the bathroom for a warm shower before well-deserved sleep. Tomorrow was another training and, judging by what Yakov shouted at them most, full of improving his and Georgi's step sequences.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it begins! Thank You for staying till the end, I highly appreciate it :)
> 
> English is not my first langue, so I'm truly sorry for any mistakes (You can surely point all of them to me, I'll be grateful!) and... I can't honestly promise You a happy ever after (but a happy ending!). So, sorry in advance for any hurt feelings.
> 
> Just simple clarification: I'm not the creator of Yuuri On ice characters, I tried to learn about them as much as possible and stay true to the amazing characters that Kubo created to the greatest degree, but I'm afraid I still don't know everything. Also, this story has its own plot and events that affect the delopment of characters. Because of all these factors, there may be some differences between the personalities shown here and the one we can watch in anime. I promise to keep it to the minimum, but I'm afraid it's impossible for everything about them to be exactly the same.
> 
> I'm also looking for some beta-reader, my biggest expectation is basically: please be brutally honest. If someone is interested, let me know!
> 
> Thank You again, if You like, drop me some Kudos or comments to let me know what You think (I promise to answer to everything). Any reaction will be nice to receive, even the unflattering one (and with this sentence goes my little faith in my own writing) ;)


	2. but in a different garden, a different wood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Relationships are building. Gently, passionately and with shyly smiles.  
> Feelings are growing, mutual passions and understandings.  
> Things are slowly changing.

 

 

 

 

> _but in a different garden, a different wood_

 

 

January came fast, with New Year's Eve that Yuuri spent at home, watching a movie with Yakov (although the coach fell asleep in the middle, snoring loudly and Yuuri didn't have the heart to wake him up). Just the next day, Katsuki left for his trip, absolutely thrilled and over-enthusiastic.

They were going to Diana’s parents’ house in Toksovo, a small village by the lake, just less than an hour drive by car from St. Petersburg. There were eight of them, going by two separate cars.

Diana was an open-minded, friendly girl, the first person who actually wanted to help Yuuri after his coming to Russia, letting him join her group and assisting him during some of harder classes. He knew he owned her a lot, she accepted him as equal, although everyone else made him feel alienated. Yuuri saw her as a truly good person, one with a pure heart.

Kazuma and Maksim were the last two people of their small group. Kazuma was the ‘brain of the group’ as Katya loved to call him. He was rather shy and highly intelligent, usually helping all of them with their studies (which meant  - saving them from falling miserably at their exams time after time). Maksim, on the other hand, aside from being the tallest of them all, which made him easy to spot on school corridor (something rather helpful for the Japanese), had the poorest sense of humor anyone could imagine. He was always trying to joke with the group, telling some supposed-to-be-funny stories, but they laughed only not to make the boy feel bad - he truly couldn't tell a good joke. Still, he was honest and trustworthy, the kind of a friend you can always rely on and Yuuri appreciated supporting gazes he got from him sometimes.

Toksovo was a poor village, most famous for its ski jumping hill. The house was located near the Khepoyarvi Lake, with a vast garden around it and a small bridge leading to narrow, private beach. Now, there was snow as far as Yuuri could see, reaching almost to his knees. The house itself was rather big, two-floored, with four bedrooms and two bathrooms on the upper floor and living room with the quite big TV and couch, well-stocked kitchen, combined with dining room on the ground floor.

There wasn't any exact plan for their stay. Diana's parents promised to leave them alone, they probably also wanted to spend some time together. Katya and Diana took the bedroom nearest to theirs, Yuuri and Maksim next one, leaving Akim and to sleep at the other end of the hall with Kazuma (the shy boy changed their initial assignation after Maksim spent the whole ride patting his head and promising how much fun they'll have together in ‘their room' – he almost begged Yuuri). Shortly after some unpacking, they stormed outside, checking modest forest next to the parcel and running towards the lake.

Yuuri was having fun. Fresh, cold air and spending time outside rather than in closed rink was refreshing. He felt like he belonged there, in the laughing group of Russian teenagers, running around like a pack of wild animals in the zoo. It was good, even better than his childhood plays with Yuuko. Laughing loudly and screaming in Russian seemed normal, familiar, almost like Yuuri always was from here. The Japanese always was rather closed and introverted, shy around people, but with the group he felt as the part of them, moreover – like a part that truly belonged in its place.

They came back home wet and freezing, after fierce snow battle, which Yuuri’s group lost utterly. His hair was damp, cheeks all red and shining with sweat. He dreamed about a hot shower and sweet cacao.

They met again in the living room, on a wide coach which could unexpectedly accommodate all of them, in front of the TV. Diana picked some movies from her parents' collection and everyone was more than happy for some chilling.

They were about forty minutes into the first film when Katya started complaining about the plot or actors’ play. She got bored, unable to sit in one place for too long. At first, no one said anything, trying their hardest to ignore her and endure, calmly, but after her loud laugh in one of the serious, killing scene (with a lot of blood and shouting in the screen), Akim broke, stopping the movie.

‘Katya, are you bored?’ Akim’s voice was plain and Yuuri momentary recognized that his friend was irritated. It didn’t happen often, Akim was rather patient, especially around their group, but he just simply enjoyed watching movies, particularly bloody, mafia type of movies.

‘A bit… c’mon! This movie is so booring! How can you even watch it? It’s ridiculous, the plot and everything. I can’t stand it, Akim! Let’s do something else!’

There was silence, everyone's eyes full of expectation focused on Akim. In two years’ time Yuuri kind of understood that Akim had the strongest character in the group.

‘Fine, Katya. Is there anything you would like to do?’ the boy still was keeping his nerves at bay.

Katya jumped in her seat, her legs crossed and fingers intertwined. She looked positively thrilled and Yuuri slowly started getting terrified. Katya ideas rarely meant good ideas, mainly in Yuuri’s mind.

‘Ido! I’ve got a brilliant idea! Wanna hear it?’ everyone signed, knowing they don’t actually have a chance to say ‘no’. ‘Let’s play spin the bottle!’

Yuuri felt his face falling, cheeks getting red. Spin the bottle, as this kissing game, popular within teenagers? He swallowed, his mouth suddenly getting dry, a very dark realization waking up in his mind: he never kissed anyone in his life.

He looked around, waiting for someone, anyone at this point, to protest, but his friends looked rather… pleased and excited. Diana was smiling brightly, Maksim and Kazume staring at Katya with a pink face and sparkling eyes, and Akim… Akim stared at him, his face blank, eyes hard. Yuuri bit the inside of his mouth.

Akim was handsome, very handsome to be precise. The kind of boy Yuuri always found alluring and appealing, drawing him and making him turn his head on the street. The Japanese knew he preferred men since he was seven, he didn't boast about it, but on the other hand, he wasn't hiding it mightily. For the past couple of months, he felt (or rather hoped) that maybe, together with Akim, they’ve been flirting lately, some small tension appearing in the air, subtle touches here and there, smiles or stares, just like the one second ago. Part of he knew he was ridiculous in his assumptions – even if Akim was into men (which was unlikely), Yuuri was just self-conscious, reserved Asian boy, whose only passion was skating, nothing special to hold an interest of the Russian’s footballer.

Yuuri breathed out, thinking again. Maybe that wasn’t such a bad idea? He could shut down his still hoping part of the brain, end his unreasonable thoughts about Akim having any interest in him.

Katya jumped off the couch, quickly running to the kitchen. They heard some glass tapping and moments later, she was back, hurriedly ordering them to sit in the circle with a bottle in the middle.

‘I start!’ Katya smiled brightly, looking at each of them and then she reached for the container.

She spun and Yuuri held his breath. The bottleneck pointed at Maksim, boy momentary getting red all over his face. Yuuri sighed happily.

The game started slowly, with embarrassment and awkwardness, but after a couple of rounds, the discomfort was replaced with laughter and occasional jokes about kissing or someone’s face being ‘way to red’. They weren’t exactly serious, no tongue or prolonged kisses really. Just some pecks on the lips, sometimes on the check (Kazume just couldn’t bear to kiss Maksim, still being reluctant after the car incident), group of teenagers having fun. It was silly, pointless play between best friends, full of giggling and Yuuri was delighted, maybe relaxed a bit after the first wave of stress. He kissed Katya on the lips, making the girl blushed and leave a loud chuck on Kazuma's cheek, which made everyone roared with laughter.

The fun part finished when Akim spun the bottle with a wide grin, the flask for the first time this evening pointing at Yuuri. The Japanese boy swallowed hard, feeling his cheeks getting redder. They're sitting on the opposite sides of the circle, faces in front of each other and Akim was looking at him calmly, eyes wide open and focused, almost like no one was in the room. He leaned over slowly, putting his arms on the floor and all of his body weight on them. He bent his knees, still staring at Yuuri, not leaving his face even for the second. He gently crawled into his direction, cracking his head just a little bit. Yuuri was paralyzed with anticipation. The air around them suddenly felt unimaginable heavy, tension making the hair on his arms standing up. Part of his brain knew nothing serious would happen with all of their friends around them, but he couldn’t stop the somehow pleasant shivering passing through his body.

He closed his eyes when Akim’s lips touched his. They were a bit dry and rough, although still nicely warm, putting a pleasurable weight his mouth. He knew his glasses were probably foggy by now from the heat radiating from his face, his cheeks and ears all red. Yet, Yuuri put some more pressure on his side, not knowing exactly what to do, but still not wanting for the strange feeling to end.

But it did. Faster than expected, Akim was pulling back, smiling at Yuuri and licking his lips. The Japanese felt lost for a second, forgetting where they were, catching one or two faster breathes. It felt too good, pleasant. There was bold thought in his mind about deepening the kiss, although he didn’t know how it came to his brain. He crossed eyes with Akim, suddenly feeling way too hot, like not only that he wanted the kiss to be longer and deeper, but _needed_ it. The look in the other boy’s eyes, pupils extended and focused solely on him, Yuuri knew he wasn’t alone in his thoughts.

No one seemed to notice, the game going on for another few dozen minutes, still full of laughs and some more kisses. Diana’s parents came back shortly after, finishing their fun and asking them to go to bed (although Kazume already fell asleep, his head at the strange angle on the couch). Nobody protested, all of them politely getting up and going upstairs, booking the queues to the bathrooms.

The house was silent when Yuuri woke up a couple of hours later. Maksim was breathing loudly on the other end of the bed, sleeping soundly. The Japanese got up, wanting some glass of water or anything to drink, his throat dry and sore. He didn’t even open his eyes fully, not to mention bothering with his glasses, heading toward the stairs and to the kitchen next. He turned the light on, grabbing an empty glass from the shelf and pouring soda into it.

He wanted to get back to bed, really needing some more sleep to be able to function, when he heard the steps.

Akim entered the kitchen with quiet footsteps and Yuuri felt fully awake within the second. Other boy had a hand on his face, rubbing his eyes and some terrible bed-hair. He looked at Yuuri unconsciously, taking one more step before stopping in the place. His arm dropped and their eyes crossed, fully open now.

Breathing was hard all of the sudden, tension filling the air between the teenagers. Yuuri felt goosebumps all over his body, his teeth tightened, the blood rushing fast in his veins. He honestly didn’t have any idea what to do next, feeling the unexpected pull to touch Akim and get closer, but having no previous experience. He remembered the pleasant weight of warm mouth on his from just a couple of hours earlier and following his clouded thought, he focused his eyes on Akim’s lips.

The other boy straightens his back and smiled tenderly. He passed the few remaining steps between them, standing just a few centimeters from Japanese.

‘Yuuri…’ he murmured, quietly. Almost like any sound could ruin this moment.

Yuuri slowly looked him in the eyes and felt lost, lips parting in agape.

Akim kissed him gently at first, again, just warm, light pressure, mouth touching mouth, both of them not truly knowing what to do next. They closed their eyes and gradually, Akim’s lips started moving on Yuuri’s. They were slow, lips parting and coming back together, calm movements savoring the delightful feeling of pleasant heaviness. Yuuri gasped, taking a small step back to resist on the counter when he felt the blonde’s hands on his waist, fingers digging into his t-shirt, tucking him ever closer, Akim’s kisses suddenly more feverish.

Hot, wet force on Yuuri’s lower lip made him open his mouth, another small sound breaking from his throat. It seemed that Akim was waiting for this, his tongue entering another mouth quickly. Yuuri felt overwhelmed, the fast, hot, uncoordinated moves of the intruder inside of his mouth were making him breathless and dazed. He put his hands on the other’s arms, looking for some kind of grounding, anything he could hold up to.

The feeling was becoming too much. Wet sounds they were making sounded even louder in the silent house, making Yuuri legs to shake. His left hand grabbed the arm stronger when a rather loud moan escaped his lips, making Akim’s tongue, even more eager and faster, exploring Yuuri inside. They were inexperienced, but it wasn’t stopping them. He put his other hand on the Russian’s neck, wanting to bring him closer, make the kiss deeper, not wanting for even a centimeter of space between their lips. Their teeth collided suddenly, making both of them gasped with surprise and stop only for a fraction of a second, before kissing again, even more desperately. Yuuri’s leg moved between Akim’s and the boy sighed with pleasure, his lips stopping, slowly becoming yet again just a warm weight, with the pressure on the Japanese’s waist even stronger, fingers digging into his flesh satisfyingly. They breathed heavily together, mouths wet and opened, but still close to each other, eyes shut.

Akim stepped away unhurriedly, eyelids opened sluggishly, showing dilated pupils, cheeks fully blushed. The Japanese knew he didn’t look better, lips swollen and wet, taking fast, shallow breaths. The kiss probably didn’t last more than couple of seconds, both of them unskilled and unfamiliar with the activity, and yet left them panting and feverish.

The blonde smiled, eyes sparkling, observing Yuuri gently.

‘We should get back to sleep, someone will notice our absence’ his voice was hoarse and still so very quiet. Yuuri nodded absent-mindedly, not able to avert his eyes.

Akim put the hand into his hair in the gesture of embarrassment, scratching his head. He grabbed Yuuri’s hand, turning around, leading them upstairs and turning the light off on their way. They stopped in front of the Russian’s bedroom. The blonde released his hand and moved towards him, quickly placing a short kiss on his lips.

‘And we should definitely do it again’ he added, smiling softly. The Japanese just nodded again, still not being able to trust himself to cohered a sound.

Akim opened the door silently and entered the room, leaving Yuuri alone in the hall. The Japnese took a deep breath, calming his still rapid heart, before entering the room next door and quietly going back to bed.

Makim snorted loudly when Yuuri closed his eyes with a small smile lingering on his lips.

* * *

 

 

February came, bringing even more snow and harsh, cold wind to Saint Petersburg.

Yuuri was in the middle of his practice, occupied and focused solely on his work. There were only three of them today: he, Victor and Georgi. Each of the had their small part of the rink to practice step sequences, Yakov was looking at them from the sidelines.

He was muting the outside sounds, sweat trailing down his spine. He enjoyed practicing step sequences, always giving his all (not that he wasn’t giving his all usually, but step sequences were just… different in the best way possible).

His concentration was to blame for not hearing the scratching sound of blades cutting the ice in the wrong manner, the specific manner which meant body losing its balance and beginning to fell to the ground.

Yuuri felt the hard tug on his jumper and heavyweight bringing him down. His head snapped to the right, in the direction of the unexpected pull, seeing silver for a short moment, before falling down. His butt and the lower half hit the hard ice, legs tangled, making him gasped for air because of the impact and sudden pain, but the upper part of his body landed on something warm and softer. Yuuri looked at the ceiling, disoriented for a couple of seconds.

‘Yuuri?’ He heard a quiet voice from underneath him. ‘Emm… Could you move, please? You are kind of crushing me.’

Yuuri jerked forward, instinctively putting his hands on the ground near his waist to push up. The only problem was that the ‘ground’ was now Victor’s stomach and chest. Russian groaned in pain.

‘I’m sorry!’ Yuuri shouted, panicked.

He repeated the same movement, this time putting his hands carefully on the ice. After a small struggle, he stood up, Victor getting up just after him.

‘What the hell happened?! Victor!’ Yakov was skating towards them, his face flushed red again.

‘I'm sorry. I must slip and I was trying desperately to hold onto something…' He looked at Yuuri with face indicating that the Japanese was the mentioned ‘something’.

‘Victor! I swear to God…’ Yakov looked at him with the scowl on his face. ’You’re too carefree on the ice.’

‘I’m fine, Yakov! Don’t worry, nothing happened’ he beamed at his coach, eyes squinting.

Yuuri calmed down quickly after the rapid accident, not really wanting to listen to the other two. He was in the middle of the sequence and now he will have to start from the beginning.

He started to move away from them when he felt a sudden throb in his leg. He winced loudly, surprised, making the argument stop.

‘Yuuri, are you alright?’ Yakov looked at him, face a bit less angry.

‘My leg’ he looked at his skates. ‘It hurts near the ankle’ he looked at his left leg helplessly.

‘Let's get you off the ice and see. You too, Victor. Go get some ice or something, it will be needed probably' Yakov took Yuuri's arm, guiding him off the ice.

Yuuri looked at Victor only for a split of seconds, seeing his face surprised, lips slightly parted and eyebrows frowned.

They sat on the bench, Yakov kneeling and uniting the laces of the boy’s skate, taking his sock. His ankle was a bit red, but not swollen. At least not yet.

‘Try to move it, slowly Yuuri, and tell me where it hurts.’

Yuuri obligated, listening to Yakov command. They spent a couple of seconds with the coach checking his leg carefully, muttering something quietly under his breath. Victor managed to come back with the pack of ice, which Fetlsman took without a word and put on Japanese’s ankle.

‘Ok, Yuuri. We are going to see the doctor, I hope it’s as little serious as it seems to me, but we still should check it’ he sat next to Yuuri and took of his own skates, the Japanese untying his second skate. ‘We will come for your things later. Victor' he looked at the Russian. ‘Go get Georgi and tell him we will finish the practice tomorrow or later, I don’t want you two staying here. God only knows what could happen with you two alone.’

Yakov was already standing up, skates with one hand and an arm stretched to help Yuuri. The boy got up, holding to his couch’s right limb, left palm clenched on his skates.

‘Yuuri, I’m so sorry!’ Victor finally spoke, voice troubled and face anxious and worried. He seemed moved. ‘I really didn’t mean for this to happen, I don’t know how, I just… I just lost my balance all of sudden. I was so stupid, Yuuri.’

Yuuri just smiled softly. He was angry or mad, just slightly annoyed with this whole situation and disturbance.

‘Victor, God-damn it, get Georgie off the ice and go home for now. I will call both of you when we get back from hospital’ Yakov frowned at him, heading towards the exit.

‘I will make it up to you, Yuuri! I promise!’ They heard the pleading shout before the door closed behind them.

Yuuri listened to Yakov’s murmurs under his nose about how much more complicated his life became since the silver-head joined the team with a small smile. Victor was defiantly making their practices more interesting with every passing day.

* * *

 

 

_Unknown_

How are you? ｢(ﾟﾍﾟ)

 

With the five-day leave from the doctor, Yuuri had more free time than he knew what to do with. Luckily, his ankle was only bruised, not twisted or dislocated. Yakov was a bit harsh toward Victor, giving him another earful on the phone when they got back to the flat. He insisted on Yuuri staying at home for first two days of his recovery (the coach truly was (good) kind of crazy about taking care of his contestants), which allowed him to catch up with all of his reading and writing assignments for school.

With no rushing to the rink after school, Yuuri felt a bit lost, his usual routine disturbed. On the positive side, it was nice: having free time, doing as he pleased after classes finished, being allowed to stay in the bed a couple of minutes more in the morning.

He was sitting in the Forno Bravo, an Italian-style restaurant, about a twenty-minute walk from the stadium _Metrostroy_ , where Akim had his practice in winter. Yuuri picked him up after training, not having anything better to do with his free time on Wednesday’s evening. It was only the two of the today, everyone else having something other to do, laughing comfortable and analyzing Akim’s game on their way to the pizzeria, although Yuuri had little to nothing to say.

They were sitting opposite to each other, Russian’s face covered by the menu.

‘Aren’t we taking the usual?’ Yuuri looked surprised, they normally order the same kind of pizza, one for two, double cheese margarita with additional mushrooms and spicy, tomato sauce.

‘I was thinking about something new to try.’

‘Akim’ Yuuri whined, putting his hands on the table. ‘Don’t do this to me! You know I can’t stand anything else, and I can’t eat the whole piece by myself. Yakov will kill me, slowly, especially now that I’m out of practice. You know how he can be about this whole weight-gaining thing.’

Akim put down the menu. ‘You know he is right, don’t you? You can't get fat Yuuri, you won't be able to jump!’ He laughed friendly at the scowl on Yuuri’s face. ‘But, yeah, we will take the usual. And you drink water, no cola this time or Yakov will hang up me next to your dead, chubby body.’

Yuuri sighed, shaking his head and smiling widely. He and Akim usually joked about the way Yakov shouted at them for bringing a pack of chips or a bar of chocolate for one of their movie nights, murmuring that he would kick Yuuri out of the team if he would weight too much or call Akim's coach to give the Russian additional laps on his training.

They slowly come back to their earlier conversation, laughing at Maksim and Kazume. The later was getting dangerously scared of Maksim’s jokes, not wanting to stay with the boy alone anymore. The group had a lot of fun, doing their best in last days to leave two friends alone as long as possible (although Yuuri was getting to feel a bit bad for Kazume, perfectly knowing how hard it can get when you are too shy).

After they ate (the pizza was as good as ever, the chef gave them so much cheese it felt like a triple, leaving Akim place to play his small pantomime of Yakov hanging up both of them), Yuuri suggested going to his place. The coach for sure was out and to be honest, the Japanese was starting to get truly boring with not having anything more to do than reading alone in the flat.

He never truly thought about it earlier, but having this few free days made him realize how much different is his life without skating in it, his days were suddenly long, the body always fresh and free from soreness. He started walking early, eight hours being too much to sleep without physical activity. To be honest, it was driving Yuuri nut, all of this time in his hands and not much to do with it. He wanted nothing more than to get back on the ice.

Akim’s presence was a pleasant distraction, they always had a lot to talk or laugh about. At first, waking up on the next day after the kiss in the middle of the night, Yuuri was a bit terrified and worried. After all, Akim was still his best friend (really handsome best friend, but a friend nether the less) and he didn't want to disturb the flow of their group or ruin the friendship he spent years on building. 

Akim was natural. He smiled at Yuuri at the table in the morning without a word, eyes shining playfully. They haven’t managed to talk at all, just the small alone meeting in the hall be an accident. Akim held the Japanese’s pointing finger silently, squeezing it in reassuring gesture and smiling brightly, eyes tender. Yuuri felt his cheeks redden, feeling relieved and knowing they were fine and still on the same page. Still best friends. The short moment was interrupted by Diana and Katya leaving their bedroom with loud conversation, grabbing Yuuri and Akim and dragging them downstairs.

Their walk to Yakov’s place wasn’t long, about thirty minutes by foot. They rent some movie on their way, Akim forbidding Yuuri any snacks, making the Japanese to pout. The flat was empty when they sat down on the couch, turning off the light and starting the movie. It was already dark outside, days short and cold in the winter, just dim light of street lantern falling through the window.

Yuuri felt tired, experiencing that doing nothing was much more exhausting than having his day strictly plan. He put his head on Akim’s shoulder in old, comfortable gesture, half closing his eyelids. It was familiar, two of the sitting on old, worn-out couch watching a movie, shoulders brushing, sometimes laughing loudly. It made Yuuri felt safe and at home.

Akim’s hand grabbed his, fingers intertwining. It was new, but after short embarrassment, Yuuri squeezed Russian’s hand, thanking his friend for the nice gest, sighing with satisfaction and nuzzling his cheek more into the shoulder. He felt a short peck on his hair, making Yuuri smile.

Yakov found them like that, sleeping, two hours later. He breathed out heavily, before waking up Akim and offering to drive him back home, while Yuuri headed to the bed.

The phone in Yuuri’s bag lightened up with the second message appearing on the screen.

 

_Unknown_

Yuuri? Yakov said it’s fine, but I don’t believe him. How is your ankle?

* * *

 

 

**Me**

Who are you?

_Unknown_

Yuuri!! Finally! ɾ⚈▿⚈ɹ

_Unknown_

You don’t know, you are hurting my heart  (-̩̩-̩̩͡_-̩̩-̩̩͡)

**Me**

Victor?

_Unknown_

One and only! （⌒▽⌒ゞ

**Me**

How do you have my number?

_Victor_

Yakov

**Me**

I don’t believe it, he wouldn’t give it to you

_Victor_

Ok, you’re right (⌣_⌣”)

_Victor_

But Mila did (*^▽^*)

**Me**

…

_Victor_

So, how is it? Your ankle? Is it really fine?

**Me**

Yes, it’s good, thank you

**Me**

I’m just heading to the rink, I’m allowed to practice

_Victor_

Great! I’m here, see you in five! Ｏ(≧▽≦)Ｏ

 

Yuuri sighed, putting his phone in his pocket. His five-day break was finally over and he was excited to be able to skate again. He frowned, squeezing his phone in confusion. Victor Nikiforov just texted him. He got his number and texted him, with a lot of Japanese emoji nether the less (how did the even knew how to make them?). Wasn’t his life bizarre enough?

He opened the door to the rink, breathing its cold, fresh air. He could hear sounds of blades cutting through ice, some of Yakov shouting. Yuuri was late for practice, visiting the doctor earlier to make one hundred and ten percentages sure he was allowed to skate again – Yakov was truly paranoid.

Victor skated to the bands, ignoring his coach and his comments.

‘Yuuri!’ He smiled, bright, blue eyes looking at him happily. ‘You’re back! So good! Yakov is such a grumpy without you.’

Georgie was absent today, but Mila suddenly appeared next to Victor, catching his arm, her chin just above the bands.

‘Yuuri! Missed you!’

He laughed, ruffling her red hair.

‘Missed you too. I’m gonna go change and join you in the minute, ok?’

‘Sure!’ Victor answers, surprising Yuuri. ‘We’ll wait for you with Yakov, maybe he will  even smile now?’

Yuuri shook his head and smiled, not knowing how to respond. He turned around, heading towards changing room.

When he joined them on the ice, standing next to Yakov, as his coach looked a bit less grumpy just for a split of seconds before Victor appeared in front of them.

‘Stay away from Yuuri' Russian coach murmured to Victor under his breath, before nodding at Yuuri to follow him to the other part of the ice.

The practice was hard. Long and exhausting, leaving him tired to the bone. It seemed like it was only five days, but the break put some small tool on Yuuri’s body. He was sweating intensely, finally being able to sit on the bench to change his skates two hours later. It was good to be back on the ice. Mila was over excited to see him, driving Yakov more annoyed every time she skated away to say something ‘important’ she just remembered to Yuuri. Victor wasn’t better, running around with Mila everyone Yakov turn around, trying to catch her and put her up in the air. They laughed and chased each other on the ice, the coach shouting in the distance. Yuuri found in hard to breathe from laughing at some point, kneeling on the ground. Fetlsman’s face was red, Victor was trying his hardest to look like he ‘is truly sorry’ while Mila was poking silver-haired waist to make him lose the concertation. There was a moment of silence when Yuuri looked up from the floor, everyone terrified for a second that he harmed himself again.

The practice was fun, relaxing. Victor was fun, comfortable to be around all of a sudden, like universe changed its course after their accident and small texting earlier. Yuuri felt happy because being able to unexpectedly talk with Victor without worries was exactly what he needed.

 ‘I still owe you an apology, Yuuri. It was my fault last time’ Victor was standing above him, normal shoes back on his feet.

‘It ok, Victor’ Yuuri smiled, looking for his phone in his pockets. ‘I’m fine, really. Forget it’ he finally found the small device, forgetting about his rink mate. He lightened up the screen, looking at new messages.

_Akim_

We still go to the cinema on Friday?

_Akim_

I can’t wait :)

 

His face brightened up a bit while he was typing the response.

**Me**

Sure

**Me**

Can’t miss the premiere, right?

 

Yuuri couldn’t see the intense stare of Victor’s eyes on his cheerful face, entirely ignoring the silver-haired Russian. ‘Maybe we can grab some coffee on Saturday on my account?’

Victor’s question was left unanswered, when Mila joined them with a loud shout, making Yuuri look away from his phone, focusing on his surroundings again, just before she dragged him with her to show him something in the bag.

Victor scratched his head, following the other two. His apology to Yuuri will have to wait.

* * *

 

 

Yakov’s summer camps were legendary. The Russian coach usually invited most talented children from all around Europe – mostly at the Novice’s age.

It was Yuuri's third camp. He took part in his first one just a couple of weeks after arriving in Russia, it was in Jaca, a city of northeastern Spain. A year later they were in Tartu, the second largest city of Estonia and this year Yakov was taking them to Pinzolo, a small town located in Trentino, in the northern Italian Alps.

The reason for their traveling, visiting different facilities to train during summer, was quite simple: Yakov believed that it has a positive effect on their performance and efficiency, helping them to change their routine. ‘Renewed drive’ – that’s how he likes to call it.

This year, for the first time, Yuuri wasn’t going alone with the coach. Mila was old enough to finally joined them, the girl was definitely overexcited during the plane taking off, squeezing Yuuri’s hand so hard he couldn’t feel his fingers. Victor was also there – Yakov wanted to use him as a motivation figure for young skaters, inspire them with the most promising and talented figure skater in last decade. The silver-hair men also promised to help his coach with some classes, being almost as enthusiastic about being a ‘teacher’ as Mila was about the flight.

Yuuri wished, in the deepest of his heart, that it was only two of them again. And looking at Yakov tired, annoyed face, he knew he wasn't alone.

Yuuri was theoretically a bit too old to be a participant in the camp, but Yakov just couldn’t leave him alone, without a guardian, in the flat for almost two weeks. That also meant that none of Yuuri’s friends from previous years will join them and he will be surrounded by younger kids, Yakov, some (probably mostly Italian) figure adult skaters and Victor. It wasn’t the most thrilling vision for the Japanese, he was already aware that he would probably spend two weeks almost on his own, preparing his programs.

Aside from the company problems, Yuuri was ecstatic about visiting Italy. The promise of the delicious pizza and pasta (Yakov definitely could not find out about his eating plans), breathtaking views and kind, warm people all around him was delightful. He watched an Italian movie once, with Japanese subtitles, and the lovely, melodic language, so easy to listen to, was something he always wanted to hear with his own ears, coming exactly from the native speakers.

Camp in Pinzolo, apart from being physically demanding, was a dream coming true for Yuuri.

They landed in Verona, but to Yuuri’s regret, they didn’t have time for any sightseeing, renting a car to go to the mountains. Victor, sitting in the front, was blabbering for the whole two-hour drive, making Yakov squeeze the steering wheel harder and harder till his knuckles were white. Yuuri couldn’t truly understand it – Victor wasn’t a bad person, he was rather cheerful and easy-going, always smiling. He talked, a lot in fact, about literally everything around them. His tendency to ask a question, always attract the attention to himself, was what was kind of irritating Yuuri in the long shot. Victor was a perfect companion for an hour or two, but after this time he was just… too much for Yuuri’s calm and withdrawn nature. When it comes to Yakov, the coach just couldn’t take all the laughing and brightness, shining of silver-hair men’s smile all the time.

The Sporting Ghiaccio Pinzolo was a modern facility with Olympics' size ice rink, tennis court and football pitch outside. Yuuri couldn't take his eyes away from the view of the mountains surrounding the town, looking superb from training place. It took him about three days to finally get a bit used to it.

Aside from their Russian team, there was eleven participants in the age between eight to eleven and two Italian skaters, Valentina Marchei (she placed fifth in last year's Europeans Ladies' singles) and Luca Lanotte (who was in seventh place in last year Europeans in pairs skating), who were supposed to help Yakov (and Victor) with coaching.

It took only two days for Yuuri to find his calm, everyday routine. He woke up before Victor and Luca (they were sharing a room in the nearby hotel) and went for a short run, just about three and a half kilometers. The three of them was going for breakfast after his shower, making Yuuri learn how to enjoy small, bitter espresso. Luca showed them that only tourist drink coffee while sitting in Italy, so they were trying to blend into the crowd as much as possible, standing and drinking while chatting. Yuuri liked the Italian. The man was laughing a lot (not all the time like Victor), his English was heavy with an accent but understandable and he was thoughtful, calmly answering all of Yuuri’s passionate questions.

After breakfast, all three of them went to their own activities. Yuuri usually skated alone on the ice, following Yakov's instruction from a day earlier. Later, he had lunch and general development training with everyone, standing in the back. He had a free afternoon, allowing him to lie in the sun or watch Victor’s attempts to become a coach under Yakov’s supervision (which Mila was crushing quite effectively, making fun of him in front of others) and his evening training was the shortest, usually accompanied with Nikiforov. They skated in silence, each of them on their own half of the rink and later they chatted about everything and nothing on their way to the room.

On some days, Yuuri called Akim, using free hotel's Wi-Fi, talking for a couple of hours about their practices.

It was their ninth day when Yuuri was just simply too tired to keep on going during the evening practice. He didn't want to head back to the room alone just yet or stop Victor’s routine. Last days made the Russian’s presence bearable, even enjoyable for Yuuri. It turned out they had more in common than the Japanese suspected and with time, Victor stopped blabbering, turning out to be a good listener, especially about his school problems.

Taking a sit on the side bench, Yuuri took off his skates, letting his feet relax. He puts his hands on the rear edge, leaning back and lets your body rest. He looked at the ice, probably for the first time ever actually observing Victor’s skating.

The Japanese was enchanted after a couple of seconds, unable to take his eyes away. Slender, neat figure of Russian's skater was moving with unspeakable grace. His blades cut the ice with precision, each move calculated and dazzling, inspiring. Silver hair was hiding his face from the outsider from time to time, making Victor looks like a forging prince from fairy tales. His arms moved slowly and smoothly, perfectly coordinated with the soft movements of his hips. It took Yuuri a short while to finally have a good look at Victor’s expression and it made him gasped for air.

There wasn’t even a trace of usual radiating, goofy smile or ridiculously shining eyes, his face calm, lost and so unbearably beautiful that Yuuri felt he couldn’t breathe. Victor’s eyes were focused and sharp, still shining, but with extraordinary passion and determination, a wild drive that the Japanese knew all too much – a craving to be better, to inspire those around him, to grow and evolve, to never lose the love and the passion. The Victor on the ice was most magnificent, elegant person Yuuri ever saw. He felt the fire in his veins, odd longing he never felt before, towards the man who was skating, pouring his soul on the ice.

Yuuri fell in love with this stunning, tender soul, full of kindness and unselfishness.

He didn’t even notice, when Victor stopped skating, looking at him with seriousness. He skated to the edge of the rink, putting on his skate’s protectors and sitting next to Yuuri. The young boy was still looking at the ice, his mind lost in thoughts, head full with imagines of Victor’s movements and passion.

He felt a gentle touch on his shoulder, bringing him back to reality. Victor looked at him with a tame smile, squeezing his limb softly. They didn’t exchange any word, just looked at each other in silence. There was an understanding in their eyes, deeper linking, born from mutual passion and dreams, desires that only the two of them could explain.

For the first time in his life, Yuuri felt truly connected to someone.

All of their evening skates after that days were spent in silent, mutual watching each other moves and motions, talking only through the ice. And at least, after seven long months, Yuuri felt truly comfortable in Victor’s presence.

* * *

 

 

‘Akim, what do you want?!’

‘What do I want? I haven’t seen you in two months, Yuuri, and you can't even look at me! You still keep your head in your phone from the moment I came!’

‘So what? Like you don’t do it all the time!’

‘You know I don’t when I’m with you!’

The phone lit up, making both of them look in the direction of the table.

‘Again! He is writing to you again! What the two of you are talking all of the time?!’

‘We are rink mates, Akim! Friends! What so strange about it! Peter is writing to you too!’

‘Yeah, sure, but I don’t answer him when I’m with you!’

‘It’s not like I’m forbidding you to answer him! Feel free to do it!’

‘Yuuri!! You know it's not about that! I don't want to answer him when I'm with you! I just…' Akim breathed out loudly, calming himself down. ‘I just wanted to spend some time with you before others come. Is it really too much to ask?'

Yuuri sighed, closing his eyes. True, he has been using his phone much more often lately, texting back and forward, but is it really so bad? The Japanese hated fighting, but he just could understand why Akim was so mad all of a sudden, the Russian's aggressive tone making Yuuri more irritated than usual. What did he want from Yuuri?

‘Just forget about Victor for two minutes, will you? I’m here.’

 _So what?_ Yuuri wanted to ask in bitter response, words just the end of his tongue, when an unexpected pressure on his lips stopped him, fingers digging into the skin near his waist. His eyes closed for the sake of ending the fight, hands inevitably going to other's hair, grabbing the blond strands, savoring of familiar feeling of wet tongue licking his mouth.

Yuuri couldn’t understand Akim way of thinking, acting all furious and annoyed by simple texting. The whole fight was at least tiring. It wasn’t like they were doing anything special earlier, casually sitting in his flat waiting for the rest to come. They were spending their last weekend before going back school at Yakov’s place, the coach leaving the flat to Yuuri’s use during his two-day schooling in Velikiy Novgorod. Rest of the group was supposed to join them later for some sleepover, Akim stepped by earlier, coming straight from his practice.

The weight on his waist increased, kissed becoming more feverish, making Yuuri lean back, resting on the arm of the couch. Akim's face followed him, small kisses falling on his jaw and neck. He clenched his hands on Russian’s hair, head falling back, allowing better access to his neck.

Akim kissed like his life deepened on it – hungrily, eagerly, passionately. His mouth was hot, leaving wet traces on Yuuri’s neck. The Japanese moaned when he felt a slight bite near his Adam’s apple, parting his lips, trying to catch his breath. He felt the warm, pleasant intruder entering his mouth, licking him inside. Akim managed to become good kisser, making Yuuri’s body feel way too burning lately. They truly learned together.

Kissing with Akim was familiar and cozy. They’ve done it three or four times since the trip in January and Yuuri truly feel contest with their small, unwritten agreement, allowing a little exploring of each other’s body and mouth. There wasn’t anything romantic about it, simply a first sexual interest the Japanese ever had and convenience coming from both of them being best friends. He knew Akim felt the same way, making everything uncomplicated.

Short, aggressive sound of the doorbell snatched them from their world, Akim sitting back quickly and Yuuri opening his eyes with frustration.

It was satisfying, coming back to the extra time activity after their two months break during summer (both of them occupied with their training camps). It was obvious to Yuuri that no one was allowed to know about it. The Japanese didn’t doubt their friends will understand, but he didn’t want to listen their jokes or any suggestion for both of them entering a relationship. Not that there was any way either he or Akim had any more than friendly (and a bit physical) feelings towards each other.

He smiled at the Russian sadly, their fight unresolved but somehow finished, standing up and heading to the door. He opened the door, welcoming Katya with a big smile and a hug almost knocking him off his feet.

His phone vibrated on the table, making the blond glared at it with an aggressive look.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again!  
> Thank you very much for reading!  
> Slowly Yuuri's and Victor's relationship is developing. I don't believe in feeling building through the night, sorry. But I promise, we're getting to the good part!  
> Afterall, good things take time, right? ;)
> 
> Truly hope you enjoy it! Every kudos and comment is appreciated! xx  
> I'm afraid, I can't promise you better than every three-week update... Work and studies keep me crazy busy, but I will try my best to make it every two weeks!  
> If you have any question, feel free to ask. 
> 
> For now, to clear any confusion, you can see the below timeline; it will get bigger with every new chapter:  
> https://ibb.co/e5UyiR


	3. otherwise then to us the forest may sound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Please, remember, hearts are fragile. And we are all heartbreakers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To clear before you start reading: Yuuri moved and spent his teenage years in Russia, being part of their culture, so even if he is Japanese, his look on the relationships and human contact was affected by it.  
> I hope You will enjoy it!

 

>  
> 
> otherwise then to us the forest may sound 

 

 

‘Yuuri, your free leg is sloppy!’

Victor was resisting his elbows on the bands, head on his hands, keeping a close eye on a skater in the middle of the rink. His face was slightly pink from the icy air, a small smile straying on his lips.

‘Again?’ Yuuri looked at him, disappointment painted on his face.

Last two weeks looked just like that: two of them, skating together long after finishing official training. With Yuuri's first Junior Grand Prix competition coming in just a couple of weeks, the Japanese was more focused, determined, and yet still not satisfied with his program. There was the burning feeling of the smallest thing missing, little part that just didn't feel right. Yakov was repeating over and over again that it was good, excellent even, probably good enough for the medal, but for Yuuri it wasn’t satisfying - his debut was supposed to be at the top of his ability, his program showing his best skating. The rational part of his brain knew that there were older and probably more experienced competitors, but he still wanted to try his hardest, act his best, not stopping at fine.

Victor overheard Yuuri asking Yakov to allow him an additional hour to train alone and with a goofing smile and some slaps on the couch's back, the Russian joined him. The beginning was hard, Katsuki being distant and sceptical, but Victor changed everything. He turned out to be serious, all the laughs and jokes left outside. His feeling of music, perspective on the skating, were different from Yakov’s. Yuuri found himself mesmerized listening to his advice, working on putting them to life.

Training together, only the two of them, was full of silence, unexpectedly pleasant and rich. Without words, Yuuri felt like Victor truly understood what he wanted his skating to say

They were exactly similar in the terms of their nature, Victor sometimes being definitely too outgoing and speaking too much for Yuuri's liking, but the Japanese has never met a better listener, someone who doesn't judge or hold any prejudices. He truly enjoyed talking to him, topics never ending. Silently, but steadily, Victor became an inseparable part of his life: texting a lot in the evenings, talking during practices and now - staying together and working on his program.

With Victor taking more and more of his attention, Akim's behaviour started to seem stranger. Ever since their fight at the end of August, the Russian was literally clenching his teeth every time Yuuri mentioned Victor. They weren't arguing anymore, just sitting in uncomfortable silence after another mention of ‘Victor' from the Japanese and some snarky comment from Akim. To be truly honest, Yuuri was getting tired of it, feeling more awkward and bitter with every day in the presence of his best friend. Every flash of the screen with a new message from Victor, every lateness, because he once again stayed longer on ice with Nikiforov, Akim was reacting with an intensified need to be close, trying to hold his hand or hug him whenever they were alone.  It started to fell Akim wanted to simply have him, and with growing irritation, Yuuri started to feel that he didn’t want to be Akim’s.

‘Yuuri, I think is enough for today. You look tired’ Victor smiled from the side, waving for him to join him outside of the rink.

The Japanese shrugged his shoulders, slowly skating to the exit. Today’s session was definitely a failure, Yuuri being too tired and unfocused to do any real work and Victor not having any heart to point him every small mistake he did today.

They sat on the bench in the pleasant silence, Yuuri slowly taking off his shoes and stretching his feet. His body ached from the long hours spent on the ice during last two weeks, exhaustion finally catching up with him.

‘I think I will need a day off tomorrow. We can get back to my jumps on Monday.'

‘Sure’ Victor smiled at him, beaming with happiness. ‘You’re good, Yuuri. Much better than me at my debut. No need to overwork yourself.’

‘Thanks. We should get going’ Yuuri smiled back, getting up from the bench and looking at Victor expectantly.

‘I still owe you a coffee, you know?’ The Russian straighten his legs and started gathering his things.

‘What?’

‘Coffee. From the time when you hurt your ankle because of me, remember?

They were near the doors, Yuuri’s bag hanging on his shoulder and Victor buttoning his dark down jacket.

‘Of course, but it’s nothing, Victor. You don’t have too.’

‘I know, but still. Maybe tomorrow since you’ll have a free day?’

Yuuri was silent for a moment, both of them already standing outside of the rink. They lived in separate directions, Victor’s apartment also within walking distance from the Yubileyny Sports Palace.

‘Ok. I know the place, you will like it. I will text you the address.’

‘Great. See you tomorrow’ Victor smiled one last time before turning around and heading home.

Yuuri stayed still for a couple of seconds, fighting with his thoughts before taking his phone out.

Me

Change of plans, I can’t hang out tomorrow

See you on Monday

 

_Akim_

_extra practice?_

_youre overworking yourself_

 

Me

Yes

I’m still not good enough

 

_Akim_

_youre perfect_

_you gonna win gold_

_do you want to talk in the evening?_

 

Me

I’m sleeping on my feet

We will talk on Monday, ok?

 

_Akim_

_sure_

_take some rest_

_see ya_

 

Yuuri hid the phone in the pocket, sighing heavily. When did he start lying to his best friend?

* * *

 

 

He was surprised when the Japanese Federation announced the list of his championships. He wasn't expected Moscow to be there, but on the other hand, it was convenient - skating in the place he knew, making his nerves a bit calmer.

Practicing with Victor through whole September helped a lot. His jumps were better and the program more consistent, making Yuuri have some hope of winning the gold medal.

His first performance in France didn’t go quite as good as he wanted. He fell three times only during his short program, his anxiety keeping him awake through the night before, making him sloppy and a bit unfocused.

The arena was filled with the mostly new face, unknown and terrifying to Yuuri. He truly wasn't the best at meeting people. Yakov was with him, greeting most of the coaches and their skaters, making the Japanese feel more and more like an outsider (although Yakov tried to make it easier to him, introducing him to everyone,  but he was too stressed to remember the faces and names). At least, there was a familiar figure of pale, blond skater - Chris - who smiled and waved at him before his performance, making Yuuri's heart a bit less heavy.

They’ve met two years ago at Yakov’s summer camps in Tartu. Chris was ambitious and passionate, sometimes more too touchy, but they clicked from the first day, keeping in touch through all these years, the Swiss motivating Yuuri to join him in Junior Grand Prix as fast as possible.

He finished at eleventh place in France which only pushed Yuuri to do more. With Moscow waiting for him, he knew that beside his program, his nerves are his biggest enemy. He needed to start controlling his behaviour, keep being more focused and concentrated on the ice, less anxious and terrified.

He needed to be more in charge of himself.

Akim was accompanying him in Moscow, repeating over and over again how great Yuuri will do. His presence was helping to calm him down a bit, Akim always being able to make him laugh (and stole a kiss or two before the short program).

Moscow was a known place, familiar arena, a language he understood, changing room he recognized and some of the people whose faces he remembered. It made Yuuri feel like it was another novice competition, making him even less stressed.

It all allowed him to finish at fifth place, which Yakov commented with a small smile and some less grumpy than usual comment about his jumps. Victor sent him a short message with congratulation, _the fifth is great!! i’m proud!!_ and another _dont listen to yakov, your jumps are getting better_ , which made Yuuri laugh out loud and keeping Akim quiet for the next half an hour.

To be honest, Yuuri was jealous after the qualification announcements. He was happy to visit France for the first time and perform in Russia, but Victor was skating in China and Japan, making Yuuri feel even more homesick than ever. He received about half of dozen photos every day and some souvenirs (including his favourite sweets, hidden before Yakov’s eyes), but he still wished he could be there himself, not understanding why Japanese Federation didn’t nominate him in his native country.

Once again, Victor easily got himself a place in the Grand Prix Finale in Korea (together with Georgi), finishing at the third position just after Jeremy Abbot from the United States and Takahiko Kozuka from Japan and Georgi at sixth. With the bronze medal, the Russian was disappointed, Yuuri sending him some cheering text messages, coming back to Saint Petersburg even more motivated, spending more time on ice before the upcoming Four Continents in February (the silver from the last year wasn’t enough this year) and Worlds in the end of March.

Yuuri usually stayed with him, just two of them again on the ice. He didn’t take part in Japan Junior National Championships this year, but luckily Japanese Federation recognized is hard work, nominating him to represent them at the Junior Worlds.

Practicing during January was hard, cold air both inside and outside, days being depressingly short, but to Yuuri got used to Victor's warm presence, the Russian making him laugh without trouble and helping him keep his head up after another fall. They talked, a lot, before, during and after practices, Yuuri constantly clenching his phone or writing some response. His friends laughed at his new addiction, a bit curious about Victor and their relationship (much to Akim's unhappiness). He learned about Victor's love towards his dog, Makkachin and his inability to cook almost anything, Yuuri told him about his nervousness toward choosing his high school in July and spent hours describing his friends both in Russia and Japan. They've created their little inside jokes, allowing only Mila to understand some of them, leaving Yakov angry and desperate to separate them on the ice. Yuuri was surprised that it took only a little over the year to make Victor so comfortable in his life, almost like he always was a part of his days, being slowly introduced to everything there was to know about Yuuri. They even exchanged ‘songs to listen before skating’ before Junior Worlds, leaving Yuuri with soft and relaxing, classic playlist in Sofia’s arena.

Slowly, frequent messages from Akim were replaced with Victor's, his afterschool going out with friends became an extra hour to spend watching Victor skate or listen to his advises. The Japanese was still trying to find some time to at least meet with Akim, usually filled with some advanced making out on Yakov's coach with an action movie playing in the background. Yuuri enjoyed their lazy afternoons, full of old stories, gossips, soft touches and laughing till crying. He still hasn't told the blonde about his plan to attend different high school than most of their group, different than Akim's, leaving them separated and probably with even less contact. Part of Yuuri knew he should be honest about it, trusting their friendship, but somewhere deep inside he was terrified and anxious about what will become of them after summer if there still be some kind of relation between them.

Still, he chose to keep quiet, only telling Victor about his restlessness, gradually purring his heart out to him. Victor was always there to listen and advise. By the slip of the tongue, after one of the afternoons with Akim being especially clingy and moody, Yuuri told Nikiforov all about him, his frustration and uneasiness. Explained how he both admired Akim and enjoyed his company. How he was his closest friend, a person he could talk about everything and nothing at the same time and will always be met with understanding. Akim was one of the most important people in Yuuri's life and the Japanese couldn't imagine them not being friends - it will break his heart. But at the same time, last months were hard. They grow distant and Yuuri stopped enjoyed their evening together or sharing a pizza in the afternoon. With every passing day, he was trying to avoid for just two of them to stay together.

Yuuri told Victor how there were days when he regretted ever kissing Akim.

With February coming to an end, Victor Nikiforov became Yuuri's second best friend.

* * *

 

 

It was March, a week before World Ice Skating Championships when Yuuri and Victor both found some free time on the same day. With Junior Worlds and Four Continents being behind them (Victor came back with silver and Yuuri finished sixth, which unexpectedly made everyone happy and quite satisfied - everyone but Yuuri). The Russian insisted on taking Yuuri for coffee, to the Art Cafe Kommunalka they visited for the first (and the last) time in September.

With the hot chocolate in front of him, fingers playing with the spoon in his drink and curious eyes, Victor was looking at Yuuri closely, watching as the younger man was drinking his green tea.

‘Why did you come to Russia, Yuuri? I've always wondered.'

The question was out of blue, making the Japanese look at him surprised, almost like he’d forgotten himself he wasn’t from here.

‘You’re still so young, how did you manage to convince your parents?’ Victor crooked his head to his side, with an intense stare. ‘Why Russia of places?'

Yuuri looked at his hand, fingers crossed together, the hot steam from the tea warming his face.

No one ever asked him. Sure, his rink mates and friends from school were curious where was he from or why doesn't he live in Japan, but no one ever asked him why Russia. No one ever was interested in Yuuri enough to ask him why he chose Yakov, what did motivate him to come to Saint Petersburg. He knew all of them asked almost out of politeness, never truly sincerely. Not even Akim knew the whole story, simply happy with Yuuri’s standard answer ‘to train ice skating, I didn’t have a good coach in Hasetsu’.

‘Why Russia’ Yuuri’s voice was quiet and soft, eyes still downcast and following the pattern on the table.

‘Yes, why Russia? Why here? What happened?’ Victor leaned a bit towards him, warm smile on his lips.

Yuuri closed his eyes a bit, slowly being taken back by old memories: the sound of the blade cutting the ice was comforting. Simple, sharp note that was bringing him peace of mind.

'It all started with Yuuko. She was my closest friend in Hasetsu and her parents were the owners of the local ice rink. We were always there, two of us, sitting, watching, and talking, observing people sliding on the ice with soothing, smoothing movements. From time to time I felt hypnotized, not able to turn his eyes away, but usually it was just a background noise. One of these days, when I was about six, the skater asked if I want to join her on the ice. Yuuko's parents just smiled and lent me the skates for free. You know,  I remember holding my breath when entering the rink, not sure what to do with myself. The women, the one who asked me to join, told me to just push back and slide.

So I did. And it was marvellous. And so terrifying, I thought I could die!'

They both laugh, small wrinkles showing in the corners of Victor's eyes.

'I remember, that it felt like the whole world was in perfect composition' Yuuri continued, looking at his hands again. 'Beyond the fear and happiness, I felt like he belonged there, on the ice, sliding.

Of course, until I fell just mere seconds later and started crying, loudly. You know, it turned out that the ice is as hard as it is beautiful.

That was just a beginning. After that day, I started spending more time on the ice, falling as often as learning some simple new things. There was a local figure skating coach and convinced my parents to enrol me in his class. Yuuko and Takeshi, another friend, joined him. It was fun, the simple bliss of a good time and doing what felt like the love of my life.'

Victor just nodded his head, taking the sip of his drink.

'When I was eight, I took part in my first competition. Just small, the local tournament in Hasetsu for children from nearby towns. I ended up being second and for the first time in my life, I felt deeply unsatisfied.  I wanted more, be better, improved and learn more. I wanted to be the best.'

'Second? Good beginning!' Victor winked an eye. 'I didn't even make it to the podium on my first!'

'I don't believe you. Victor Nikiforov is always on the podium' Yuuri laugh, drinking some tea before continuing. 'So after that day, I started spending more time on the ice than in any other place. Every free while, almost every minute I didn’t have to eat, sleep or spend in school, was dedicated to ice. Thanks to Yuuko’s parents and Mari, my older sister, who usually stayed with me (you know, I was still just eight, barely nine years old) and supervised my safeness, I was able to get better.

I think that's where everything started. More Juvenile tournaments, more need to improve and grow, although, by the time I was ten, I nearly didn't have any rivals, people in my group of age to compete against. Then the first serious talk about his future began. I know I will never be able to be thankful enough to my parents for not treating me like a child and actually taking my opinion into consideration (although, let's be honest Victor, of course, it couldn't be decisive – just a courtesy of them). I was sure I wanted to skate, more, be better, compete and evolve. Hasetsu with its local coach and the small family rink wasn't enough.

So we've started searching, together. Just wondering, talking with other coaches, seeking better place and a better person to teach me. That's when, while watching international championships, I saw Yakov for the first time. Guiding one of the Russian skaters, I just knew he found the perfect person.'

'You found Yakov to be your perfect person?' Victor looked at him with surprise. 'That's impossible! Our grumpy cat won't even smile at the camera!'

'Well... Have you ever saw him smile? I live with the man and never had a chance!' Yuuri gave the mocking look, smile playing on his lips.

'Ok, you have a point there. So, how did it happen that you live with him by the way? Are you a masochist?'

'No, Victor' Yuuri laugh. 'Let me finish.

Like you know, it turned out that my perfect person was 7345 kilometres and about twelve hours by plane away from my hometown, not even mentioning language or cultural differences. Still, I knew I found him – the coach who would take me to the top.

I started learning Russian next day. Without a teacher in Hasetsu, I travelled to Fukuoka every weekend to discuss his progress with Shun - a student at Kyushu University, who spoke Russian fluently. It took me a year, unbelievable amount of crying and shouting, and enormous help from my ballet teacher and the best friend of my mother, Minako.

Minako, just so you know, is my biggest fan. As soon as I started skating, she spotted me during one of my practices and suggested adding ballet to my training. And I loved it just a bit less than skating. Minako was my first true coach, there were days when she was even more strict than Yakov.'

Victor gasped, but didn't say a word, just turning his head.

'Minako was also the person who bought tickets to St. Petersburg with me. She clutched my hand during the whole flight so hard that it still hurts.

I was a wreck, I was so reckless. I've never talked to Yakov, saw the man once on the TV, but still flew over seven thousand kilometres to a foreign country to meet him. I didn’t have any idea what Yakov would say or how would he react to me, the eleven years old, the Japanese boy, in his home rink, asking him to take me in. But still, I had to try, no matter how crazy or foolhardy it seemed.'

'Wait, Yuuri, I have to make you stop' Victor looked serious. 'You've never contacted him in any way?'

'No.'

'Not even a single phone call?'

'No.'

'An e-mail?'

'Nope.'

'Even an old, hand-writing letter?!'

'No, Victor' Yuuri laugh.

'You're crazy. Who in their right mind will allow you to just buy tickets and fly?!' Victor looked shocked and overwhelmed.

'Well, my parents did. They're really great. And, besides, I knew Russian enough to read, write and communicate. I found a local school that will take me in starting next fall. Minako offered to move with me – she could open her ballet school anywhere in the world, with her fame and knowledge of English and a bit of Russian. She travelled the world during her career as a dancer and although she dreamed about a bit of peace, she promised to sacrifice all of this for the sake of my dream. I still don’t know how to even begin to thank her.'

'You parent must be even crazier than you. And where is Minako now if you live with Yakov?' Victor's eyes were round and sparking with curiosity.

'After we landed, we got to our hotel and checked in, I spent the whole night looking at the ceiling, trying desperately to calm down the storm in my mind. Thinking about that night now, I think that it was probably my first mild panic attack - sweating and shaking for a couple of hours until Minako woke up in the morning.

We knew the rink Yakow was teaching at. Although we didn’t have any idea if he would be there, it was June, season break, so there was a slight chance for success.

Minako told me that my face was deathly pale when I opened the door of the Yubileyny Sports Palace. All the shops and changing rooms for guest during big sports events were closed. I asked some security guard for the way to the rink. For the moment, I was afraid the man will stop me and tell me to go back home to Japan, but nothing like that happened.

We entered the place without major problems.

I will never forget the first time I saw the rink. It was huge and bright, hard to ever compare with Hasetsu’s. Comforting sounds of the blades cutting the ice were louder there, multiply by the echoes of the large, almost empty arena. I looked around, spotting three people on the ice and one near the bands of the rink.

Honestly, Yakov looked older than on the TV, with grey hair and the beginning of baldness. His face looked angry, almost unhappy, while he was watching his students.'

'You mean, he hasn't changed? I feel like the man is stuck in time.'

'Maybe he's a vampire?' Yuuri smiled, making Victor laugh loudly.

'I felt like my feet weighed tons of kilograms and every step was like an eternity, like walking in the mud. When we were just a couple of meters from Yakov, I felt everyone's looking at me. There was silence while we approached Yakov.

He didn't look pleased or surprised. He just glared at me, not even a hint of a smile on his face – he had the same, annoyed look as when watching his students.

Now I know that it's just his normal look, but then? I was terrified. I tried to smile when I began talking, but it was pointless. I was only able to introduce myself and asked Yakov to be my coach. And just like that, my whole long, well-prepared speech ended up in the trash. Instead of naming my desires and skills, I said simply _‘I'm Katsuki Yuuri. I saw you on the TV. Would you be my coach?'_ with rusty Russian (believe me, a whole year of learning died within seconds) and looked terrified at the floor.'

'Well, I think you still did pretty well, considering you were able to say anything to Yakov.'

'Yakov was silent for the while after that. I was just too afraid to look up, but the longer it was taking, the more impatient I was getting. After a few seconds of dragging silence, I rose his eyes and saw the same (maybe just a bit bitterer look on Yakov face).

 _‘Do you speak Russian? Fluently?'_ the first question seemed odd.

I told him that I can.

 _‘Good. Do you skate? Where are you from? China? Japan?’_ Yakov voice was sharp and hoarse, although it didn’t sound unpleasant. You know, his normal voice in the morning.

I told him I'm from Japan. And called him 'sir'. Believe me, I think I saw his eyebrows twitched slightly at that. So Yakov ordered me to put my skates on and show him if I was even worth his time. I didn't need to be told twice. I started his short warm up quickly. My hands were shaking when I was tying his laces. I entered the empty rink, without looking at anyone.

 _‘Skate like you want to win the gold, boy'_ that was all Yakov said when I was in the middle.

So I skated. The best way I could, in quiet, empty rink, in a foreign country, without music, in front of the man who held my whole future. I skated all I felt: the craving for winning, the love for skating, the need to grow and learn, and the freedom I felt on the ice. Playing heart-warming sounds of Hasetsu's rink in my head, noises which changed my whole world. It was once in a lifetime performance, a desperate plea from me to Yakov to save my dream.'

'You should show me' Victor' gaze was burning. 'I want to see you skate like that, Yuuri.'

The Japanese was blushing, swallowing before continuing.

'And so Yakov saved me. When I finished, it took him next two minutes to point out all of my mistakes. By the end of the speech, I felt tears in my eyes – I wasn’t good enough, I will have to go back, find new dream or a new way. Then, he asked me in which hotel we are staying. I just couldn't believe my ears. I gave him the name and Yakov told everyone that it’s over for today. He asked me to gather his things and follow him with Minako.

The ride to the hotel was quiet. I was panicking. I saw Yakov packing our things, driving us to the airport and telling us to never show up again in Russia.

He really packed all of our things and told us to bring them back to the car. He took drivers place without more words and waited for us. I had tears in my eyes, looking at St. Petersburg’s streets, knowing that this was probably the last time in my life I would be able to see them.

We stopped in front of old, worn-out building with faded red façade. He told us to get out, turning the engine off. I was never more terrified in my entire life, almost sure we will be killed or tortured here for even a mere thought of asking Yakov to be my coach.

You don't have to say how childish that thought was, Victor. Stop laughing! I was eleven!

Anyway, Yakow opened the door and told us to follow. He stopped again in front of the door on the third floor and open them with the key, letting us into the apartment. He opened yet another door to one of the rooms and turn the light on.

When we entered, we saw a small bed and simple wardrobe in the corner. There was also a desk with the chair near the window.

_‘That’s your room from today. You have to find a school on your own and we have to talk the details of my payment with your parents, but during your time with my team, you can sleep here. You are not the first foreign student, I have – they all used this room for some time. Breakfast is at 6:30, we will talk specifics about your training tomorrow. Your friend can stay here for today, the couch is free. Now, put your things down, we will go grab something to eat, you look hungry. My skaters cannot be hungry.’_

I remember crying later that day when I was able to finally understand what his words meant.'

Yuuri looked at Victor, the tea already cold in front of him, the heart a little pounding in his chest. Hearing his story out loud for the first time made him wonder if he wasn't a bit childish or immature then, leaving his family and friends just to persuade his dream, not really caring about anyone else. He started wondering what will Victor know think of him now, being so much older and mature. Will he see Yuuri as a peevish child? Will he think less of him?

He fondled his fingers, breath catching in his lungs.

Victor was silent, still watching him closely, his face now without much of expression, eyes focused.

‘Victor?’ Yuuri finally asked after couple more seconds of silence. ‘Say something?’

‘I don’t know what to say, Yuuri’ The Japanese felt like all of the air from the room was gone. Despite all the jokes and light comments, Victor for sure despised him. ‘What you did, what you accomplished, I… I don’t know how to describe it. You’re marvellous, Yuuri.’

They sit across from each other, Yuuri’s eyes wide and Victor’s face still serious.

‘I believe, I just started admiring you, Yuuri' Victor added, leaning back in his chair, a wide, warm smile spread on his face, eyes laughing friendly again. ‘You're the most amazing person I've ever met.'

Yuuri was sure he forgot how to breathe. He heard Victor words, but he was more than certain he heard them wrong. The blood was running fast in his veins, a pulsing sound in his ears. Victor admired him. That has to be a joke.

With words finally catching up to him, Yuuri’s cheeks became red, burning a little. He was looking at Victor’s face, still decorated with tender, wide smile and kind look in his eyes.

Never in his life had Yuuri heard someone other than his mother told him he was amazing or marvellous. No one ever had looked at Yuuri like that: like he was the only person in the whole world worth thousands of stars. Victor had this look, had this admiration written on his face, full of warm feeling and Yuuri believed him.

‘Thank you’ he murmured.

Victor winked at him.

‘No problem. Have you seen the Watchmen?’ Victor put his elbows back on the table taking the sip of his chocolate and casually changing the topic. Almost like he sensed Yuuri’s embarrassment.  ‘Maybe we can go after the Worlds if they're still playing?'

Yuuri smiled, relaxing with a change of the subject.

‘No, not yet. We can go, celebrate your victory.'

Victor laughed, cheerfully.

‘Sure, when I bring gold, I will even pay.’

Yuuri smiled back, adding small _‘you’ve better’_ and then allowing Victor to slowly start his small compliant talk about Georgie’s behaviour on the ice, loosening up and enjoying their afternoon together.

Being with Victor was almost too easy, leaving Yuuri with a warm heart for the rest of the day.

* * *

 

 

The June was surprisingly sunny, warm and a bit humid in the air, making Yuuri’s hair curl. He was waiting patiently in front of the entrance to his Gimnaziya, playing with his fingers. The dark suit with a white shirt felt uncomfortable, making him sweat even more.

‘Yuuri, are you coming? It's about to begin, c'mon' Akim was standing beside him, grey jacket and black trousers empathizing his fit figure, tugging his dark green tie in an uncomfortable move.

‘Just a moment’ Yuuri looked around for the thousand times, nervously.

‘What are you waiti..' the blonde stopped the sentence in the middle, looking astonished at the man getting out the taxi in front of them.

‘Yuuri, I'm so sorry!‘ Victor straightened his shirt, smiling brightly, walking towards them. ‘I hope I'm not too late!'

‘No. But we will be if we don't hurry' Yuuri smiled back, fixing his light blue tie in a nervous way, looking at the men. ‘Victor, this is my friend Akim. Akim, that's Victor, we skate together.'

The Russians looked at each other, the blond with surprised,  suddenly pale face, biting his lower lips and Nikiforov with pleasant, friendly smile.

‘Nice to meet you’ Victor added, pulling his hand. Akim shook it without the word, still looking a bit startled.

‘Let's go’ Yuuri turned around, trying to flee from strange, unpleasant atmosphere that was beginning to fill the air, going in the direction of the football field at the back of the schoolyard.

It was finally the end of the junior high school, the official graduation ceremony for the third years. Victor overheard Yakov apologizing to Yuuri for not being able to come, his schedule too tight, and offered his companion in return, being more than enthusiastic to take Feltsman’s place as his ‘guardian’. The Japanese tried his hardest to changed Nikiforov’s mind, but it was hopeless, the Russian determined and set, already planning what to wear and where to take Yuuri after the ceremony for celebration.

Deep inside Yuuri felt grateful for his care and companion.

Yuuri and Akim were sitting in the front row, waiting for the headmaster’s speech and their diplomas, Victor in the back, chatting with some mothers (being delighted fans at the same time), enthusiastically explaining them for whom he came here.

The speech was long and boring, Yuuri unable to focused of the words with Akim’s constant gaze, when the Russian turned around (his surname started with ‘D’, so he was setting a couple of sites before Yuuri). He didn’t have to be told to know the unasked question: why was Victor here today?

It took some time, but about an hour later Yuuri was finally clenching his diploma, standing in the small circle of his friends. Katya had tears in her eyes, Diana squeezing her shoulder and even Kazume face looked a bit sad. They were retelling some funny history from the trip year previously, Victor standing together with them. Katya, Diana and Maksim even already managed to get their autographs from Victor.

Akim was on the opposite side of their small group, his foot tapping on the ground in the nervous gestured, glaring from Yuuri to Victor all the time. The Japanese could feel his impatience, angry look in his eyes leaving him surprised. It felt almost like jealousy, making Yuuri feel sick in his stomach.

‘Yuuri, can I talk to you, alone, for a moment?’ Akim’s patient finally snapping, when Victor put his hand on Yuuri’s shoulder, laughing at the story of Kazume’s fall during their snow battle last February.

‘Sure’ Katsuki smile warmly, trying to calm himself and everyone.

They walked a couple of meters away, Akim’s face still frowned and unhappy.

‘What is he doing here?’ he stated plainly. The Japanese was already expecting this question.

‘Yakov couldn’t come, my family is away, Victor offered his company, so I won’t be alone’ Yuuri shrugged his shoulder, looking at his feet. 'And I kind of wanted him here, he's my friend.'

‘You don't need him' warm hand touched the brunette's cheek, getting his head up. Akim's thumb cared his cheekbone for a second. ‘You have me here.'

‘Akim stop’ he brushed the hand from his face. ’Victor is a friend. I’m glad he’s here.’

‘And what about me?’

‘What about you?’ Yuuri looked at him, confused. Akim’s behaviour has been strange, making Yuuri feel uneasy.

There was silence for a moment, both of them looking each other in the eyes. Akim smiled finally, taking a long breath.

‘Yuuri, I don’t want to hide anymore. I did it because I thought that’s what you want, that you’re too shy or too embarrassed to be official, but I’m not. You’ve brought him here, laughing and touching him so casually, almost like you want me to be jealous and to be honest? It’s working rather well, I’m already out of my mind’ Aim smiled even wider, eyes shining warmly. ‘I want for us to be a couple, publicly. I want for everybody to know you’re mine and I’m yours’ Akim put his palm on Yuuri’s cheek again. ‘Yuuri, please, would you be mine, for everyone to know?’

Yuuri was unable to speak. He felt the warm feeling of the blonde’s hand, felt the wind moving his hair, the sweat going down on his back, but his mouth felt dry. He didn’t know where to look, what to do, how to react - the words were too unbelievable to be true.

‘Us?' Akim nodded his head. ‘Official?' he asked in a dumb way, repeating the Russian's words.

’Yes’ he smiled, taking Katsuki’s hand and intertwining their fingers.

‘What us, Akim?’

The words left his mouth before he could stop himself and for a split of seconds, the blonde face twisted in strange, unreadable expression, getting back to warm, tender smile quickly.

‘Us, Yuuri, me and you. Us we built since the trip to Diana’s parents’ house almost year and a half ago’ Akim hand squeezed his even harder.

Yuuri bit his lower lips, shaking his head in silent no.  It had to be a misunderstanding.

‘Yuuri, I.. I…’ Akim's voice was shaking, hands getting sweaty. ‘Yuuri, I care for you. Deeply. I think I love you for some time now.'

‘Akim.. I.. I don't know what to say' Yuuri felt confused and anxious. 'I feel like we've done almost nothing than fighting since last August. Ten months of fighting and making out when we were done, Akim. We haven't really talked since winter break’ Yuuri looked sad, looking at their hands intertwined together. 'Besides, we were just friends, fooling around when they have some free time. You were my best friend and I loved you for that. For this freedom we had.'

The Japanese finally looked at the blond, silence in the air, uncomfortable and heavy. He felt like crying after one look at the Russian.

The pain wasn’t a word enough to describe the horrific twist on Akim’s face.

'I... I hoped... I was sure that you feel the same, since… since, we kissed, we held hands, we…’ There was a glimpse of tears in his eyes. ‘Yuuri.. I… I was so sure. I was sure you love me back.'

Yuuri could hear his voice breaking, could hear the tears that weren't yet falling, a tone full of agony and disbelieving.

‘I do. I really do, but you’re my friend, Akim. The best friend and I…’

The Japanese hid his face in his hands, unable to handle the sadness in Akim’s posture. He wanted to be anywhere but here, somewhere deep underground. Anywhere, only not to see the Russian’s sorrow.

Yuuri was certain, part of him died at this very moment, seeing someone so close to him being hurt that badly, being the one to do this to him. He could swear he saw it, he saw how Akim’s heart was breaking, falling to pieces right in front of Yuuri’s eyes. He could swear he saw how he was the one breaking it.

He thought that nothing ever felt so wrong and sinful. Not a single fall on the ice, not a loss at the competition, not even one of their fights or his lie. Nothing could be worse than watching Akim on the very of tears and being the one doing it.

‘I see’ the Russian looked at him one last time, smiling sadly, which only made Yuuri want to puke. ‘I think I should go. I’m sorry.’

He turned around, warmth leaving Yuuri’s face.

‘Akim, no, wait' there had to be something he could do. Anything. ‘I… I was sure, so sure… I…'

‘Me too, Yuuri. I was sure too.’

Akim didn’t turn around, wiping his eyes with the palm of his hand and going towards his parents.

He didn’t look in Yuuri’s direction, hugging his mother in the distance and showing the diploma to his father. Katsuki watched them go towards the dark car, the blonde’s shoulder hunched.

Yuuri crouched on the ground, arms hugging himself closely, looking at the ground. There were tears in his eyes, his mouth getting dry. It was becoming harder to breathe, an enormous pain forming in his chest.

A pain he felt physically with every beat of his heart.

He clenched his fists and closing his eyes. The world was spinning, the sun wasn't leaving any warmth on his skin, a light breeze wasn't making him feel fresh.

He stayed like that, just a couple of seconds that felt like an eternity, falling a bit inside.

There was a loud laugh that sounded like Victor's making Yuuri remember where he was. He tried to calm down, not cry in the middle of the school ground in front of everyone. There will be time for that, alone, in the privacy of his room later.

He stood up, shaking and shivering, breathing hard.

He slowly came back to the group, a cheerless smile on his downcast face trying incompetently to hide his feelings.

He joined his friends, listening to some other story from their afternoon at bowling, trying his hardest for his laugh to sound reliable.

There was only a pair of light blue eyes following every line of his face, wordlessly giving him a small reassurance with the squeeze on his shoulders and small circles drawn at his back.

* * *

 

 

July finally coming felt like a blessing.

Yuuri barely remembered last two weeks. The first two nights were the worst, he was both unable to sleep and to cry. He was left with tossing around in the bed, looking at the ceiling, mind full of what-ifs, questions without answers, regrets he couldn't say out loud.

What if he never kissed Akim? What if they talked about it instead of assuming things? What if Akim never asked him to be a couple? What if Yuuri's stopped it in the middle when he started to feel uncomfortable? What if he was honest with his best friend?

What if he said yes and started going out, even though he would be lying?

There weren't any answers, just doubts and regrets which were making his chest squeeze painfully.

That were the nights when he curled in himself, phone clenched in his fist, trying not to pick up Akim's number and call him.

Losing his best friends felt like part of Yuuri's being was gone with him.

He hid, a bit broken and still sad, isolating himself from everyone from school, ignoring Katya’s calls and Diana’s messages. He didn’t know what to say or do, afraid of everyone's reaction. Did they know? Did Akim tell anyone? Did they hate him? What was Yuuri supposed to do now? With all these questions in his mind, it was easier to keep his distance. After all, they were Akim's friends at first and they should be his friends now. Beside, Yuuri wouldn’t have to see them until September.

The only person keeping Yuuri sane and not allowing him to drown in his self-pity was Victor. He told him everything, just after the ceremony, both of them sitting in the restaurant. Surprisingly, Victor didn't say much, just smiled sadly and added short _'It will pass, Yuuri. It will hurt and it will pass. And then you will be better, I promise._ '

Yuuri never knew he needed this words this badly.

They texted even more now, if that was even possible. With Yuuri not having anyone else to talk to, Victor sort of became his whole word - the only friend in Russia, the only person he could open up to. He also called his family more often now, his mother tender voice helping him feel better, but wasn’t the same as meeting face to face, so Yuuri spent his whole free time meeting with Victor, hanging out also outside of the ring.

They were on their way to Jaca again for another summer camp. Yakov was already murmuring under his breath for a couple of days now how Victor and Yuuri being inseparable, but the Japanese truly didn’t care. Yakov could talk all he wanted, it wouldn’t change a thing. He needed Victor, needed Victor’s company, Victor’s jokes, his stories and meaningless talk about everything and nothing. He needed someone who could occupy his tired brain, making his hateful thought stop and withdraw.

Yuuri just needed a friend and Victor was truly there for him.

Nikiforov finally put his bag on the bed in their shared bedroom - they waited for two more skaters, coaches at the camp, to join them - and turned around, smiling at Yuuri. His face was flushed and shining with sweat from carrying all of his luggage (even after last year, Yuuri still was impressed with the number of suitcases the Russian owned and travelled with).

‘We’re gonna have a marvellous two weeks, Yuuri!’ he winked, making Katsuki laugh out loud. ‘The sore muscles won’t have us!’

‘Sure Victor, why not?’

‘It’s a promise, Yuuri! Great summer!’ he grabbed the Japanese shoulder, looking him in the eyes.

Yuuri smiled back, truly smiled since June, making Victor’s eyes shine a bit lighter.

‘ _I believe him’_ he thought, grabbing his own bag when Nikiforov’s hands left him and opening it. ‘ _I will probably always believe him._ ’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked it!  
> I'm still looking for a Beta, so if anyone is interested, let me know.  
> Well, we are starting with Victuuri fully! Rough ride ahead of us ;)
> 
>  
> 
> **Thank you very much for all the kudos and comments! You're great! Honestly, I really can't wait for more of your thoughts :)**

**Author's Note:**

> Boleslwa Lesmian - If I met you again (translated by Marcel Weyland (Sydney))


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